What the heck are you doing?
My brain kept whispering. I could hear it behind my eyes. The anxious whisper almost made me move...turn around and leave....but I didn't. I stood there frozen but not with fear. I was deep in thought.
Let me back up to yesterday afternoon...
I was sitting in the tiny chair, in the pediatrician's office....
Nope...I'm gonna take you back to last weekend.
I tricked Max into grocery shopping with me by saying "hey! You want to drive?" And then directing his driving right into the grocery parking lot.."well, while we are here..."
Half way through my grocery list, I noticed the shoppers.
I watched the young moms, with their first baby, fiilling their baskets with organic and fresh goods. Their hair shiny, and their yoga pants and baby t-shirts saying "I got this motherhood thing, no problem, and I will not let my looks go."
I grinned at the slightly older moms, of several toddlers, quickly placing apples and wheat bread in the basket to hide the sodas, frozen pizza rolls, and sugar cereal from the judging eyes of the younger moms. Their hair pulled back with a rubberband, and their husband's old college t-shirt hiding the last thing on the priority list: fixing out-of-shape body.
Then there were the middle-aged moms. We survived the past 15 years of our last child and have nothing to prove, just lives to manage. We hide nothing and even have found a way to be comfortable with greying hair and our body shapes, in form fitting jeans and sweaters. We didn't even think twice as we yelled to our drivers, "go get milk, cereal that is on sale, and the giant package of paper towels, then meet me on the beer aisle."
My 17 years of motherhood passed in a blink-
That brings me to the tiny chair in the pediatrician's office, yesterday.
I have not taken either of my boys to a non-specialist doctor in a long time, so to Jack's chagrin he had to go to the little kid doctor.
As we waited, I noticed the old stained and scratched walls, floor and furniture. A smile spread across my face as I reminisced about my little boys and the countless visits to the doctor when they were toddlers. The smile turned to a gag when I leaned against the shelves and noticed the germ coated books were the same ones from 13 years ago...
That was the last visit to the pediatrician. Jack is right. He is too old.
So back to my whispering brain today...
I was in the vestibule of the closed post office, buying stamps. As I put my money in the machine, I heard snoring.
I know Jeff has been out of town a while but not long enough for me to miss his snoring and start dreaming of it!
I slowly turned and found the smelly snorer wrapped in a blanket and hidden in the corner.
I was alone.
A part of me felt I should leave immediately, because if he woke up and was trouble, there would be no way for me to escape and nobody to hear me scream.
I stood there staring at this man- worn out shoes, a shelter blanket, tattered pants, and decent looking dress shirt.
How did he get here....
Not the post office.
How did his life end up smelly and seeking the warmth of my neighborhood post office vestibule?
My brain anxiously started to whisper, "move. What the hell are you doing? Quit standing over him."
I ignored it. Instead, I had a mid-life perspective moment:
What am I doing?
What do I want to be?
Who do I want to be?
My children are practically adults.
My husband is working out of town til spring.
I have a job that I love but stink at...and it has nothing to do with my college degree.
I continue to homeschool...but not sure how well.
Yes. I know. A conversation about myself as I stood over a sleeping man that has no comforts that I could observe.
He never woke up.
I returned to reality and went home to make lunch for my 17 year old baby with a lung infection, do laundry creatively with my broken washer, and work on a quilt I have been stitching for 13 years.
Ponder my future