Energizer Bunny? Not so Much

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I managed to have my children nine years apart. Everyone said it was crazy. I enjoyed it. While the eldest was in school, I got to have one on one with the baby. Looking back, it was wonderful. Wouldn't change it for the world. 

But now, as a middle-aged mom, I deal with a sense of guilt. I always wonder if my second child was robbed of things I did with her brother. I was twenty when I had him. We did everything together.... I was still young and energetic. Fast forward, today I am not. Divorced and with today's recession and economic crisis, I work full time. I'm not the young, new mother with all the energy and time of the Energizer Bunny. Throw in a lazy thyroid, and fibromyalgia, and some days I'm slower than the molasses escaping from the mason jar. 

My daughter is amazing. Vibrant and full of electricity, fueled by sass. I know she was to young to look back and remember the days when I could run around the track cheering her brother on as he fought to cross the finish line first. But I'm not too old to remember, and some days, it makes me just want to cry. 

I can't be the only middle-aged mom who deals with this. It should have a name. We should start a club. Meet once a week for support. {We could meet on face time, so we didn't have to feel responsible to put jeans on and actually GO, lol} But then, of course, I'd feel guilty for using that time for ME, instead of her. Even though she is in her room, music vibrating the windows, and 4 other voices emanating from her phone speaker. I at least know that I am sitting on my couch crocheting a blanket, ready for some one on one with her when she is ready. If I haven't fallen asleep while waiting. 

Does she stay in her room because somewhere, subconsciously, she remembers that volleyball tournament in grade school that I just could not pull myself together for in order to attend? Or is it the lunch date I had to call off, because of a brain splitting headache? The Valentine Party in the 2nd grade that I couldn't take off work for? So many options, leading to one question. Did I disappoint her? Just to type it breaks my heart. 

Tell me I'm not the only one. Tell me someone else had to send their child to daycare and cry all the way to work. Tell me she is a typical teen, who knows her mom would give her the stars in the sky if she were able. 

I need to know what to name our club. Or is there one already out there, and if so... did the mail lady lose my invitation? Can someone send me a new one? 

Oh, and I need written instructions on how to work this face time thing. Add those in the P.S. of the invite. 

Please.

I know you're out there.

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Moms Shades of Pink

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 "Should it be light or dark pink? Which do I go with?" Then, with a sigh, "I don't even know what to do."

My son and his fiance have been picking out wedding colors... ALL DAY. Which has lead my mind to struggle focusing on 50 shades of pink. After a couple hours of going through each and every color of pink in the spectrum, I step away for a time out. Funny, a time out. I used to put him in time out when he was a toddler. He'd sit in the corner with his head down, every time, and say, "I'm sorry mommy." Then I would explain to him that I only do this because I want him to be safe and learn right from wrong, because I love him more than all the stars in the sky... and he would tell me it was ok, and that he loved me more than a hotdog. 

Pink. Bold, or pastel? They continue, and so do I. Now lost in my own train of thought... pink. I was so scared. One pink line, or two? I can't really tell. I don't want to wait 5 minutes. Is it supposed to be a dark pink? I can see one...... my heart races as I hear someone else enter the McDonald's public restroom. Little do they know, the 19 year old girl in the stall next to them is going through the biggest moment of her life, alone, sitting on a toilet seat cover, her life suddenly based on dark pink, or light pink...one line or two? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. She leaves, after meticulously applying her bright red lipstick. As the door latches, I slowly open my eyes, and stare at the white stick in my hand. Clearly, two, bright pink lines. I sigh, before the tears start rolling, and say to myself, " I don't even know what to do."

I feel a tear trickle from my eye. As I try to nonchalantly wipe it from my cheek, I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up, shaking myself out of 1998, and returning to the present. He looks at me and smiles. Suddenly, all my worries are gone, and it's just him and I. 

"Don't start crying already, mom." he says.  As I stand to give him a hug, I hear her say behind us,

"Are you sure you want all pink?", and before he can answer, I hear myself say, "Yes! Pink is a beautiful life changer. You want pink." He looks at me curiously, wondering what exactly I'm talking about, because I've never been fond of pink. Until today. Today, I remembered just how special the color pink is.

I grab his hand and smile. A genuine, happy smile. 

"Want to go to McDonald's?" I ask.

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