Doughnuts and bacon are disgusting.
Cars are a frivolity and people should walk more often.
Kids aren’t angelic. They are rather mischievous, actually, and don’t always mean well.
Brown and black do, in fact, go together.
Dessert is unnecessary.
Long lines can be enjoyable.
Not everyone has to marry and not everyone has to have children.
Women can be breadwinners (and men can do housework).
You don’t have to stretch before a run.
Bread doesn’t make you fat.
Rainy days are the best days. I mean, you don’t overheat when you run! Amazing!
You don’t need to go to church every Sunday and Wednesday. Sometimes, the physical church can be detrimental to your spiritual health and growth.
Help isn’t always helpful and it is okay to tell someone “no”.
The customer is not always right.
Toilet papers rolls should be placed so that the paper comes from underneath. It is easier to rip off and keeps people from using too much.
Anything to add?
I thought I’d share some music while my child is asleep. I used to work at 3 in the morning baking pastries and I feel as though this song is pretty relevant. My husband would get home around 11 or 12 at night and this puts me in his perspective a bit, since we hardly ever saw each other during that moment in our lives. Oftentimes, I forget that marriage is two people and that both need to put in an effort to strive for their loved one’s happiness. Some missed sleep is nothing if you want to spend your entire life with someone.
Being young and having a baby puts me in an awkward place with my peers. Most women my age are only just getting engaged, or otherwise they are in school and working five days a week. This places me at the edge of circles, not yet old enough to be considered in the mom groups and in such a different place in life that I feel strangely mature in my usual group of friends.
I know I’m not the only mom to feel this way. My life doesn’t revolve fully around my child and husband. I don’t have dinner on the table every night. I just want to go on long runs in the forest and come home to a smiling baby, but that’s an impossible daydream.
I do like to work. I enjoy the feeling of earning my money and paying bills. I enjoy helping others.
Maybe what I’m trying to say is that I feel too young, too old, too busy, too lazy, and nowhere near where I wish I were in life.
I’ve always dreamt of traveling the world and learning new languages, of meeting new people and living in both poverty and riches in order to fully understand the world. I wanted to be a police officer, unbiased toward even the most distinctly different person. I wanted to be a writer, able to carry emotions in my words and change people though them. I wanted to be a wanderer, untethered by family or feelings and able to explore the entire expanse of the earth by wit alone.
But I found myself married at twenty years old and it’s possible that none of those dreams will ever come into fruition. And perhaps that is all they ever were: dreams. They were ideas that I latched onto and ruminated over so often that I found no fault in them.
Now I do find fault in them. They are missing my husband and my son and my family and friends and perhaps I feel for them more than I let on. I can be stoic and tired and hard and untouchable but I don’t think I can live without the people that surround me.
I sympathize for moody teenagers because I was one, but I also understand the need for stability and nine to fives and those days that drag on because they mean you love and are loved. I love and am loved, and I could continue to pine away for my unfulfilled dreams but sometimes things come into your life that you never expect and you never knew you needed.
I never meant for this to become what it is, but I guess I needed to write some things out for them to make sense in my head. Thank you for listening.
I wonder what it’s like
To have a ring around your finger
That declares a one true love
That binds you to another
When you feel a little lost
You lay your head upon his shoulder
And he whispers, “you’re my only”
And there you’ll stay until you older
Holding children in your arms
A son, and then a daughter
Who will grow and make their homes
Leaving two again, together
And one by one you’ll pass
Within a month of each other
Because the second left alive
Couldn’t live without the other
© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com