03 June 2005

grow up

being an adult is a drag. really, I'm not digging the scene. I'm tired of being responsible. all I want to do is play and make paintings and beaded necklaces and shell boxes with ava. I want to make a thousand collages, work on my art journal and take dance classes everyday, every stinking night. I want to spend hours making paper stars and party hats for ezra's first birthday party. I want to take my camera all over the city and shoot roll after roll of film. I want to go to star bar on tuesday night and dance to double dutch bus and old prince and james brown with my pal amy. I want to create ipod playlists and string paper lanterns all over the house and spend hours on the phone with my best friend nancy. I want to plant black-eyed susans and cosmos in the front yard and go thrifting for old record albums and purses and clothes for the bebes. I want to dream up elaborate practical jokes to play on ward. I want to get lost in a sea of books, make fruity frozen drinks and listen to music that might make me cry or dance or inspire ava to perform her beloved pixie dance with the handstands.

ah, but I haven't even unpacked the suitcases yet and there's a checkbook to be balanced and bills to be paid and the pipes are backed up so the washer isn't working and the dishwasher isn't working either and the laundry is piling up and the dishes are starting to stink (can't handwash the dishes because the pipes are backed up) and the front yard is horrifically overgrown (prepare to die, vile weeds) and I haven't taken a shower in what feels like 38 days and it is so cold and grey and rainy and my lovely golden tan is fading and these children of mine are supposed to be eating healthy, fresh foods and blahblahblah. it's all so boring and predictable and pedestrian. by the time I finish doing all of these things, my little happy spark will be long gone and the couch will call out to me and I will go to it, forever forsaking all others. I will fall asleep nursing ezra again, the computer precariously balanced on my hip, some bad movie playing on the television in the background. I will dream bizarre, disconnected dreams but wake up quasi-refreshed and ready to play.

but I will see the messes and remember the responsibilities and I will hear someone's voice telling me to grow up and that voice will be my own.

17 comments:

  1. Wow! I know how you feel; however, it has been a long time since I had little ones around that little, but the responsibilities basically the same! As always, your ideas are very well put! If it is any consolation, I miss the times you are going through right now and would love to relive them! I know it sounds weird, but it's true! Enjoy reading your posts so much!

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  2. "The moment when first you wake up in the morning is the most wonderful of the twenty-four hours. No matter how weary or dreary you may feel, you possess the certainty that absolutely anything may happen. And the fact that it practically always doesn't, matters not one jot. The possibility is always there."

    -Monica Baldwin, 1950

    I love this quote, because having a lot of irons in the fire always means letting some of them cool. What always matters to me during the times when I have to deal with the ugly realities of life is maintaining my belief in the beautiful possibilities of life. I think you should alter your internal voice to just say, "Grow Up(temporarily until the chores are done!)" Thanks for such a beautifully honest posting as always.

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  3. i so know how you are feeling. i can't even say it in words how much i'm relating to this. i told earl to read your post - and he knew what i meant. in fact i left your post open, put noah to bed and was meaning to come back and comment, and fell asleep.

    i don't know if it's because i've been doing this routine for three years, but lately i've been so longing to shed all responsibilities and just go out and play. it's the worrying one does too as a parent that gets to me. i don't like all this worrying that comes along with being an adult and a parent.

    oh i know we should grow up, but every once in a while wouldn't it be nice to just....

    andrea - i'm so there with ya, thanks for being so honest about it and describing the feeling so well!

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  4. Oh, I know doesn't it suck.
    Coming back from a vacation into "real life" and it's many responsibilites is enough to make you run to the beach again. I hope the plumbing problems are resolved quickly.

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  5. dad, thanks for your support. it means the world to me that you read my blog and comment... it means so much.

    sparklemom and jan, I can't tell you how much I appreciated your words... I love that quote. thanks for such encouragment. you have no idea how much I needed it.

    lora, yes it does. it sucks. thanks for commiserating!

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  6. I agree, some days it just sucks, no matter how beautiful a life you have. This is the fourth weekend in a row I have committed to painting my front porch. Is it painted yet? No. But in the last four weekends how many long bike rides have I been on? 3. How many hours with my friends and at the pool? Approximately 15. Hours spent reading? Maybe 3. And laying around wasting time mad at myself for not painting the porch? Infinite. Number of times my porch could have been painted by now? Probably 3. (It's a small porch.) It's Sunday morning and a perfect day to go out there and get started, but I think I'll go get a latte and read the paper first...

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  7. oooh do I feel you! I didn't even JUST go on vacation. did you see the apron of the month on angry chicken? It'll make you happy.

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  8. I wanna be your friend! I wanna do all those things with you!!!

    I too have a baby to take care of though, and hes wonderful. But man - I really wanna go dancing and take tons of pictures and rummage through thrift stores with you! You sound like your loads of fun!

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  9. Andrea:
    I feel the same way - SO many times. I wonder if I will ever stop working. I have my drawing table up with my watercolor paper on it, I have stacks of books EVERYWHERE, I have needlework sitting in the box near the sofa - all of it calling out to me. But I am a responsible adult - right? Right. So I go on. One day I'll be able to sit down and do all those things - I tell myself. But some days.....

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  10. Transparency.
    Affirming. Thanks for sharing, because it is in your sharing that you become more human ... and the rest of us learn we are not alone ... and we mix/comingle/blend ... and we are NOT alone ... thank you for sharing your heart, your honest gut level deepness ...
    I understand more and more why Ward loves you so!

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  11. Anytime, my friend. The Starbar calls us! The double dutch bus will pick us up and we'll dance the night away. I'm here for you!

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  12. how funny is it that the grass never fails to be greener on the other side of the fence. when i picture your gorgeous family and the life you lead it seems absolutely ideal. busting at the seams with every ounce of creativity that you describe in this post. i just have my own self and this little apt to keep up with and i still can't seem to find the time to pursue all the dreams in my head. and the dreams in my head so often feel dusty and worn out. tired. and i think it's ok to not want to be an adult always. i think your dreams and creative longings are beautiful and you should never lose sight of them. it keeps you young, it makes you.....YOU.
    p.s.
    i wish you and zabs and i all lived in the same city so we could go out dancing together. what fun!!! (and everyone else in the blog crew would be invited too)

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  13. Go out dancin' with the girlies? Eww! Cooties!

    Seriously, Andrea, you know how much I love you and how much I want only the best for you. It's so hard for me to completely identify with you on all of what you brought up here as I leave the house for 8 to 9 hours during the day. When I come home, I try to make life a little bit easier for you to handle, but I know that it's not a cure all, that what you need goes much deeper than just me taking the kids to Jake's for ice cream for 2 hours. I do appreciate your complete honesty here, and I know that things will be better soon. I promise.

    And now, "I like to move it, move it...!"

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  14. and where exactly did you find that fabulously honest man of yours!

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  15. thanks, all. my cup runneth over! I am beyond thankful for such kind words. I was hesitant to post my whining and complaining (especially since I have been so fortunate to have just come home from an amazing family beach vacation)... I really am beyond grateful for what I have in this life. just had a horrible week and needed to vent. I so appreciate all your encouragement.

    nancila, you deserve a thousand hours by the pool.

    moi, I'm always looking for able-bodied thrifters who love to have a good time... tee hee. wish I was as fun as you make me sound.

    wardsmama, you are an inspiration and you definitely deserve an infinite amount of time to devote to whatever you wish.

    slim, thank you for your comment. I'm honored. as for where I found that fabulous man of mine... that's a question I ask myself every stinkin' day... where did he COME FROM? I hit the jackpot, man.

    amy, star bar SOON.

    meridith, thank you. based on what I know of your musical preferences, you would love tuesday nights at star bar. they play such an eclectic (and sometimes obscure) mix of 70's/80's funk. around 2am, the dj plays a block of old michael jackson... you know, the GOOD STUFF... from 'off the wall' (and others)... people go NUTS and it is so much fun. too dope for words. yes, it would be a dream if we all could get together to go dancing...

    ward, you keep me going. every. single. day. thank you for always understanding. thank you for making me laugh. thank you, thank you, thank you.

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