i’m a mom. yeah, i know you know. but with me, that’s really all i am. i’ve identified myself over the past 6 years as “K’s Mom”, and that’s it. sometimes i make a stab at being a wife, sometimes at being a daughter a sister or a friend, but i think the only thing i know how to do anymore is be a mom. it’s sad. i used to go to clubs, and dance until my feet fell off. i was terrible at it…but hey, booze in the bloodstream does wonderful things to a woman’s degree of self consciousness. i used to go to malls with my girl friends and try on pretty dresses just for fun. i used to hang out with people and talk until the wee hours in the morning. i used to have a life that required the scent of perfume, rather than baby vomit. i used to do something other than clean dirty diapers and make sure my kid picked his crayons up.
as most of you know, i moved many, many miles away from home when K was 1 year old. but really, i might as well have moved sooner than that because when i got pregnant (19, holy hell was i ever that young?) i built a psychic panic room around myself, and hid in it. i’m not really sure that i’ve actually come out yet.
i still have my old friends, and i’ve even made some new ones…but cyberspace doesn’t really count for much when nobody’s posting on the message boards, you know? besides, it’s pathetic to base my entire social life around the internet.
i’ve been on a mission this past year to chuck the social anxiety out the window, and meet some new people. part of the problem? i don’t meet people well. i’m just too shy. i don’t know how to keep a conversation going, and goodness forbid i have to talk to somebody on the phone. so, with all those stupid unnecessary complications, i’m doing the best i can to make some real-life-in-the-flesh friends. preferably, ones who have kids that i can relate to, and bring my babies along.
a couple years ago i did a stint as a barrista at Starbucks in an attempt to be someone other than K’s Mom. it was nice- i made some friends, met some cool people, but in the end those friendships didn’t stick after i left. mostly because they’re young and childless, and when it comes down to it i just didn’t have enough in common to make the effort to hang out.
fast foward to a couple days ago…one of those interesting people i met at starbucks is having a baby in May. yay! someone to dump old baby stuff on (not as much as i would like- she’s having a boy) and finally someone i can babble baby stories to.
on Monday i’m going to her house to give her baby stuff and chat. 
i am nervous. today, the inside corner of my eye started hurting. it’s not red. it’s not swollen. it’s not oozing, it just feels like a bruise on the inside corner of my eye, and it itches. if it’s not gone by tomorrow, or gets any worse i’m gonna have to take myself to the doctor. and of course, i’m not going to go visit my friend. that would really PISS ME OFF. it would figure…i finally work myself up to visiting another human being voluntarily, and something happens to fuck it up.
i am nervous. today, the inside corner of my eye started hurting. it’s not red. it’s not swollen. it’s not oozing, it just feels like a bruise on the inside corner of my eye, and it itches. if it’s not gone by tomorrow, or gets any worse i’m gonna have to take myself to the doctor. and of course, i’m not going to go visit my friend. that would really PISS ME OFF. it would figure…i finally work myself up to visiting another human being voluntarily, and something happens to fuck it up. a couple months ago i was going to attend a ladies luncheon with K’s old preschool teacher. she’s a really nice young lady with 2 girls, and is adopting a baby from Ethiopia in a few months. well, the day she had the luncheon it snowed like crazy, so naturally i had to cancel. i had a bad run in with some ice and a rock wall a couple years ago on Valentine’s day, and i don’t drive in bad weather anymore. she hasn’t had another one since. attempt #1? Foiled.
i even got the phone # of a lady i met with a baby the same age as mine…but i really don’t do phones. had she e-mailed to set up a play date it would have been okay, but i totally flaked out and never called. i really, really hate talking on the phone. Attempt #2? Disaster of my own making.
and now? my own body is rebelling against me. maybe the baby stuck her sharp little fingernail in my eye and i didn’t realize how bad it was. maybe it will be better by tomorrow. all i can say is, it better not be something STUPID like pink eye- i haven’t had that crap since i was a young kid in daycare! my son hasn’t even had it yet. (hoping to keep it that way!)
*sigh* i’m nervous. i’m nervous that my eye won’t get better. i’m nervous that my eye WILL get better and the whole thing will be a disaster. i’m nervous that i’m making a big deal out of nothing. i’m pretty sure i’m the first person in the history of EVER to make such a big deal about making friends. i’m such a spaz.
i’ve thought about therapy and all that for my undiagnosed apparent social anxiety and possible depression, (so don’t suggest it, please) but who the hell has time for therapy when the nearest insurance paid office is an hour or more away? i should probably be on some kind of medication…. but again. who the hell has time anyways.
my theory is that if i didn’t live with my MIL and her mother, and had a friend i could actually talk to i wouldn’t be such a ball of anxious stress all the time. seriously- anybody would be driven to the brink of insanity living with their inlaws, and mine are special. you’ve probably heard the stories. and if you haven’t, you will.
my husband started a coffee roasting business a year ago, and so far it’s doing fairly well- we’re opening a coffee shop of our very own later this year, and once that is open our main objective is to move us closer to the city. (where the coffee shop is) so all i have to do is hold out until then. once we move into the city i can go to play dates, and do all sorts of city-things with my kids, where i will inevitably meet other moms i can relate to. yeah. would you believe me if i told you my MIL drives my husband more crazy than she does me? so trust me, we’re moving this along as fast as we can.
that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.