Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Been Thinking...

which is dangerous...I know, I know. What with the massive expression of opinion yesterday and all, it occurred to me that I may just have come across as an unfeeling, emotionally stunted bitch. Well, one word in that description is right, I admit. I make no quibbles about being a bitch...since it is a label that is often applied to someone like me. A woman who really isn't afraid to express her opinions (no matter how unliked they are). I am at least fourth generation bitch.

I also discovered something else about me...I probably have something missing from my genetic makeup. I actually discovered this while the oldest screamer was away in KY for a week. You remember me posting that I missed him, for a couple of days? Yeah, that's where the wiring is funky. After the first couple of days...I didn't miss him anymore. I actually cringed at the thought of him coming back home. See...told you...genetic mistake. Let me elaborate further. The littlest screamer took off with his Mawmaw for a day or two, leaving me all alone in a nice quiet house...I loved it! I discovered then that though I would miss them for a while, I could get along quite nicely without them. Now this doesn't go to say that I don't want them or love them...or that I wouldn't be devastated should something happen to them. It does go to say that for even a short time, I can and do get by without someone underfoot (kids, husband, family in general) fairly well. This may not come as a shock to some, but I've never been apart from either screamer for longer than a couple of days (the oldest at least, the youngest only ever stayed away overnight and was home bright and early the next morning) and it was a bit of a shock to my system...that quiet and me time after five LONG years.

I didn't like my peace being disturbed by homecomings, but I dealt with it. I even long for a day that is similar to those precious few I just experienced. Life without intruders. Sad that I think of them that way, especially since I'm not a particularly anti-social person.

I think I am genetically screwed in the mothering department. I love them, I enjoy them...but even now I am ready for them to be out of my space. They are five and three, still a lot of years of teaching, nurturing and mothering ahead of me that I don't really relish. I expect you to be shocked/appalled/ sister was when I told her. I think of myself lately as a sort of temporarily to rear these creatures to the point that they are no longer dependent then off to the next adventure.

I don't dislike them or begrudge their existence, after all...I did the crime have to do the time, right? I knew what I was getting into when I chose to have children, but I also knew when to stop. I don't hate them, I love them something fierce. I have the mama bear thing, the protective instincts et al. I just have little patience for the encroachment on my personal space (words that do NOT exist with little people). I'm weird...I know. I am my grandmother. I kinda like that.


YeOldFurt said...

A friend told me a little ditty -- Babies are born cute so's we don't eat them, then they become kids so we can teach them, then they become teenagers so's we can kick them out on their own. You GOT to let go sometime.

Ozark Momma said...

Your friend is right OldFurt...though this morning the phrase "now I know why some animals eat their young" comes to mind!

If they weren't so danged sweet as babies, they wouldn't survive, lol.

Preparedwarrior said...

Some of us just figure this all out before we ever think about having a baby. I was sixteen and knew that I didn't want my entire life devoted to taking care of kids.

Even the best of parents are NOT guaranteed their kids will turn out ok. Even then, they have a bad habit of returning whenever they need cash, a place to sleep, or a baby sitter for the their kids.

Everyday, I see grandmothers saddled with caring for their grandchildren by their meth addicted children, from daughters who are bored with mothering, and sons that can't/won't take care of their own offspring.

Call me selfish. And I really do like babies, it is just that they usually turn into whining brats that you can never escape.

Don't feel guilty about how you feel. I haven't met many men or women who won't tell you that "I love my kids to death, but if I had it to do over again, I would't have started with the first one."

Ozark Momma said...

PW~ I agree and see the same things. Along with several others that really shouldn't be parents for obvious reasons.

I don't know that I wouldn't have had the eldest, he was a very much planned fella. The surprise second probably wouldn't be here though had he not been a surprise. I don't regret having them by any means, they are my very own set of comedians and entertain me on a daily basis. I think I just look forward to the day that I don't HAVE to deal with them on a daily basis. When they are older/adults, I can chose to ignore them and not have CPS called on me, lol.

HermitJim said...

Hey Momma...I don't find your feelings a bit strange! Ever watch a mother cat with a bunch of kittens? They will climb and chew on her, slap her around, and generally get on her one good nerve.

When she has had enough, she looks them straight on...and grabs them in a "could be a death hold if I wanted " way and they seem to get the message.

I have the utmost respect for most mothers, and I would be the first to say that I am constantly amazed at how much most can tolerate and still be sane!

Ypu have my respect, my friend!

Ozark Momma said...

Thank you much is one of those 'one good nerve' days, lol. The littlest has a sassy streak in him a mile wide, don't know where that came from (I says as I blush) and the oldest is just plain hard-headed. Today, I am the momma cat!

Thanks for stoppin' in!

Cygnus MacLlyr said...

That's the perogative when you reach the "grand" stage, too-- take as long as liked, then leave.

My only solace will be when My son 'discovers' solitude is underrated as a spiritual exersize,too...

The true danger is when liberty is nibbled away, for expedience, and by parts. --Edmund Burke