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Go Nigel, Go!
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Would You Like To Buy My Monkeys?
Aug
8
Do you ever just feel completely inadequate in every possible way? Like everything is just too much and you’re not enough? Physically. Emotionally. Intellectually. Financially. That’s how I’m feeling right now. And it’s ridiculous and it’s completely selfish because no matter what I’m thinking about, it all comes down to me thinking about myself. Obsessing about myself.
At playgroup today, as I looked around at the other moms, I couldn’t stop thinking, “I’m the fattest one in the room. I probably weigh more than any two of these women combined.” I try to console myself by thinking about when I was thinner and cuter, but who cares about what I looked like when I was 17? I don’t even care. Then, I decide I’m going to get back on that diet and exercise everyday…which, I’ve actually been doing for a few days now, the exercising…but, still. I just feel like I’m not skinny enough. I’m not pretty enough.
Then, the kids are playing and having fun. Now and then one of them will do something they shouldn’t and their mother will correct them. I’m in awe of these women who, with their soft and gentle tones, lovingly guide their children toward better behavior. I take notice of their tone because I have just corrected Julia a little too loudly. Too loud and too desperate. I realize I used the kind of voice that might be appropriate when you’re child is in immediate danger - like standing in the path of an oncoming car. But Julia wasn’t in danger. She was just doing something that was annoying to everyone else and was ignoring my request for her to stop. And then I worried - why do I sound like that? Do I sound like that when I talk to her all the time? Am I really about to lose my shit because she isn’t listening, which is absolutely understandable for a 3 year old who is having the time of her life with her friends?
One of my fabulous new playgroup friends is a lawyer and all I can think about is what I’m not. I’m not a lawyer. Hell, I barely completed a semester toward my master’s degree. I listen to the way the moms in the playgroup speak and suddenly I feel very…white trash. I hate the words I choose to use and the sound of my own voice begins to bother me. I realize that, while I’ve been so mindful about whether or not Julia is using her manners, I’ve just interrupted and neglected to say ‘excuse me.’ I feel like a barbarian.
I look around at the house we’re sitting in - at the stainless steel appliances and thoughtful decor. I don’t have stainless steel appliances. I don’t have professional photographs of me gazing lovingly at Julia, of our intertwined hands and her baby feet hung in symmetric patterns around the house. My house has probably never been as clean as this one. At least not for more than twenty minutes. I let Julia eat food in the living room. I even found a piece of peanut butter toast under my hutch last night. It sat there all day, if not for two days. My furniture is not new. My flower beds are in need of weeding. My yard needs landscaped. My piano needs tuned. My counters are not marble.
And while this kind of thinking isn’t the norm for me, today it’s consuming me. It’s eating at my brain and making me sick. While I can tell myself - “So, you weigh more than you should. You have a husband who adores you, who can’t keep his hands off you, who tells you you’re beautiful every day and, more importantly, does all he can to make you feel that way. So, you sounded a little harsh with Julia. She was ignoring you anyway. She just hugged you and said you were the bestest mom in the world. She’s a happy, well-adjusted child. You know that yelling at her isn’t a habit. It was a slip up. Parents slip up. And so, you didn’t complete your master’s degree. So you’re not a doctor or a lawyer. Aren’t you doing exactly what you want in life right now? And your house? Look at it. Look at your home. Isn’t it fabulous? Leslie, look at all you have.” - I still feel crummy.
Pity Party at my house!
Gosh, even I am irritating myself with this.
Ugh.
How can you all stand me?
Oh, and while I’m being all pestiferous - have you entered the Haiku Buckaroo Contest?
*from the 1972 The Cat In The Hat TV Special
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20 Cool Kids Came To Play
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Ooooooh. Aaaaah.
I used to feel like this too, but come on…. we are all only human, and I bet those other mothers are feeling just as inadequate/inferior…. etc etc . Wait a while and one day it simply won’t matter what anyone says/thinks… we all sit on the loo the say way mate! Picture that lawyer mother having a Number two on the loo, that brings everything back into perspective real fast!!!! No one is bloody perfect, no one’s going to give a diddly squat that you had peanut butter toast under the hutch… but YOU.
Okay, are you channeling me for the last week? I actually had an outloud conversation about myself to myself. I keep telling myself to be happy. Be satisfied. Every time I get something I’ve wanted, I compare it to what others have. What is that? I have three healthy kids, a large home (very dirty right now–we are talking filthy), and a wonderful husband. Then I see the neighbor’s new $100k kitchen. Or, like you, I want the lawyers degree and career because I feel unworthy. Why, oh why can’t we be satisfied? I really think it’s a woman thing. My husband doesn’t compare. He never has that “keeping up with the Jones” mentality.
It doesn’t help we took our California home equity and seriously upgraded up here to a prestigious neighborhood full of trophy wives. We came for the schools, but I have this insane need to compete with woman that SAHM with nannies, housekeepers, landscapers, and tutors. Yep, those are all my jobs. I hauled bark today and I think some neighbors were agast.
That’s why I like the blogosphere. I look for real people like you with the same fears, insecurities, and yes, beauty inside.
That said, I would love, love, love to lose some weight for my health. We should start a weight-loss community blog. I might actually stick to exercise and diet with a kindred spirit.
I have so much I want to say re: this post but I really don’t know where to start. I don’t want to sound preachy because I have felt the same way at times.
Of course she may wonder why you are on your hands & knees 
BUT………you really do seem like a funny, sweet, caring person who obviously loves her family very, very much. You are blessed with so much.
Who cares about stainless steel appliances. Our white fridges keep our food just as well.
Professional pics of this & that? I have seen a lot of your pics on this blog & I see wonderful, happy pics of an absolutley beautiful little girl with eyes that could melt a heart of stone.
Everyone feels inferior at one time or another. Even the lawyer Mom. I guarantee you she has yelled at her kids too.
Oh & the next time you are at her house I bet you just might find a piece of peanut butter toast under her hutch
((((hugs)))) to you my sweet cyber buddy.
Oh & to make you feel just a bit better, I just kicked a piece of popcorn under the printer table & I am not going to pick up the Lego pieces on my living room carpet!!
Have you checked your hormone levels? I’m only asking because last week I was caught crying while scooping litter boxes in the basement because I was so ugly. Yes, last week, I was an aging, monkey looking, thigh jiggling monster, who needs a boob job. But this week, I like myself just fine again. So, I’m guessing, next week your rational brain will take over again and you’ll realize how cool you are and how much you don’t want to be a little miss perfect lawyer (who probably has an ulcer trying to keep up with whoever makes her feel insecure). I’m quite sure I would not want to read her blog….BORING! You are funny and darn cute and you seem plenty smart enough to be a lawyer, but would you really want to be one? Plus, can you imagine her student loans, she’s gonna be paying that off for ages. Come on, would you rather be a yuppie or a bohemian?
I’m convinced it’s totally a hormonal thing. Or a I’m-just-a-freaking-crazy-nutcase kind of thing. Because these women in the playgroup? They are fabulous. Truly. And not in a, “We’re fabulous and you’re not” kind of way, but in a real, just wonderful kind of way. They are nice and sweet and kind and generous, honestly, really down to earth, genuine people. Which is what makes me feeling this way even stupider.
The things they have and the things they are - they deserve, they’ve earned. And none of that should take away from who I am and what I have, but now and then, I just get like this. I totally think it’s a woman thing. Dave doesn’t get it. He just tells me I need sex.
You all make me feel so much better, though. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
Sorry you were having a crappy day. I know it’s not much, but I think that your totally awesome! It’s inspiring to me to see someone not a size 4 have enough self-esteem to be funny and it seems like you really know who you are. You’ve helped me feel better about myself.
I’ve so been there Leslie. More times than I would like to admit. Just know, that if it were me, I would have found a month old cheeseburger under my couch or something along those lines. Day old PB isn’t all that bad.
We’ve all had those days. I have one friend in particular who makes me feel inferior on a regular basis. We are not closer because I let things bug me that shouldn’t bug me… and it has nothing to do with anything she does. It’s me. It’s me and my neurotic brain. She is hotter (she works her butt off as a personal trainer), they have more money (so what?, really?), they have a huge house and it is always clean!! There is always such a list going through my mind whenever I’m around her. And then, a few weeks ago, I found out that she has a cleaning woman. AHA!!! She is not perfect afterall…
A good friend recently told me that if you were in an airplane looking down on everyone’s rooftops and their problems were posted on the rooftops you would be absolutely shocked. People who appear to have the perfect life don’t. I try to remember this when I am envious of my friends who stay home with their children or who can buy whatever they want.
It is such a vicious cycle when you start doubting yourself. When I am in a situation like that I feel like I suddenly get a hick accent and everything I say makes me sound like a hick.
Awwwwweeeee, HUGE hugs!!! There are just plain days like that. I’m in your ballpark sistah and have been there with the fabulous playgroup women (although they were fabulous homeschool women, which is even more scary, because of course their children are learning Einstein’s Theory of Relativity and entering national violin competitions and my child was learning about aerodynamics by making paper airplanes and was on his third year of “beginning” guitar.
Julia’s happy, Dave’s happy and you’re doing what you want to do - remember that mantra, even on sucky days like this.
Oh - I am so with you on this one, especially right now. I am unsuccessfully trying to drown that stupid little “you’re not good enough” voice with Starbucks lattes. (Maybe a smoothie would work better?) I keep reminding myself all of the things that I need to be grateful for…if I say it enough, will it eventually sink in?
“And when you’re in a Slump,
you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done. ….
NO!
That’s not for you!
Somehow you’ll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.”
(If I were more perfect, I’d have come up with my own comment. Instead I had to steal one from someone far more talented than I…. see, you’re not alone.)
I think we all feel that way sometimes. My wife is like that. Once we were walking through the annual Streets of Dream homes and my wife cried because she doesn’t own a dream house.
I’m totally with you…I constantly struggle with this. It makes life hell, but little by little it gets better.
[…] My Mommy’s Place, “I’m a Punk. A Kratunkulous Schnunk. Nobody Loves Me. Not One Tiny Hunk.” I know we’ve all had days like this. […]
I have days where I feel like this often. Especially after adding 2 stepkids to the house whose mom has abandoned them for all intents and purposes and who do not want to be here. You’re not alone, and you never will be…I think it’s our plight as mom, and as hormonal “b”s, hehe.
Wow. You summed up my mood today! I can relate, but obviously you know better about yourself than to believe all that anyways…I do too, but hey let’s vent together! I posted about you a little on my blog. Come and visit sometime! Hope ya feel better!
Oh my gosh! I finished high school. I don’t own a home, I rent. I guess I let loose and yelled at my kids from time to time and I guarantee you that my house was never as clean as I wanted it and my weight certainly wasn’t close to ideal either.
But. Both of my kids (21 and 23) are good, well adjusted, happy and on their way to being successful, educated adults now - because kids don’t need all the things adults aspire to have. They need you to love them and nurture them and be their safe place always.
Sounds like you’re doing that!
So hearing you!! I”m tired of those thoughts in my head.
[…] Why didn’t I tell you about this yesterday, you ask? Well, you know how much I freak out about playgroup on a regular day. Can you imagine the torture I’ve been putting myself through? Okay, whatever you’re imagining, multiply that by infinity. […]