Sunday, April 10, 2011

Totally unrelated ... My yard

I must confess.

I want to be a mama.


I'm doing fairly well at staying in the moment and really not worrying about whatever happens but I think it's time for me to be real. I really do want to be somebody's mama.

This somewhat old realization scares most of me to death but then when I drive by teenagers hagning out with their possy with baby in arms and stroller before them I remind myself that considering what more (hopefully) I have to give (I hope I didn't sound too pompus, you get the idea), that I'll be able to do a mmostly decent job raising a human.

Wally wants it too, which is probably what makes me want it as well. For ever he was hesitant and reluctant to commit to the idea of purposefully pursuing the biggest, most important job in the universe.

He's not any more. I'm not either.

I find myself now in a familiar limbo of wanting something and being content.

tHE times I feel the struggle most is when I see people that either jump into it without a second thought (the ones that 'fell in love' 5 seconds ago and must 'seal the deal' with a baby), and those that found themselves there 'by accident' and perhaps don't appear ready (if that's even possible) to venture into this dreaded and envied position.

I support a young lady who lives with a family. In that family (though she doesn't live there) is a young lady who is 19 years old. She is, as my husband's grandmother would say, 'that way'. Within the next month or so she will welcome her first little one, along with her unemployed boyfriend, into the world.

Now I have a hard time condemning anyone for anything. I feel guilty for painting her in a negative light, for painting him in a negative light. THey seem like nice, yet very naive and immature, young people. It's not fair to them that I judge or decided what's right or wrong. It's none of my budiness.

I do know that when I walk into the house and see her sprawled on the couch with a nest in her hair, looking rather anemic week after week I wonder how it happened that I'm a 31 year old woman somewhat (I do only mean somewhat) jealous over this 19 year old girl who clearly needs a bit more time to grow before birthing her own little mini me.

I try to remind myself that to some degree I made a choice to wait. At the same time the other side of my mind tells me that I did try and give things a chance. Then I remember Wally and I just tried to do the best with the situations we found ourselves in, in order to avoid being unemployed parents (and yes I fully realize this could happen at anytime to anyone who has worked very hard, including us - I do hope you get the idea of what I'm saying though), with little but frustrated burned out bitter attitudes on life to offer our chilcdren.

I feel like I'm being real negative towards every family with kids that's ever found themselves in a less than ideal situation I'm not meaning things that way ... I hope you are getting my drift.

When I see that girl with her growing belly and frazzled hair I do my best to be happy for her chance to experience this miracle ... ok I'm lying I don't really try to do that. I do my best not to wish I were her, or wish I was anything else but me right now. I have a great life and no matter how it goes in the realm of children I will do my best to be joyful in all I have.

I know the dangers of jealousy and envy. Of discontentment in where you're at. There's no need for it because there's no truer saying that applies than 'The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence'.

I am trying to enjoy my yard. Weeds and all.

In hopes that one day there might be little ones playing in it :)