Confession

You may as well know that I am not close with my mother. Since she's unlikely to find this blog, I can be pretty honest about this. My mom and I don't talk very often and, when we do talk, it's mostly me trying to get off of the phone. But, even though I am often the one trying to flee the relationship, I am still really mad that I am not closer to her. Of course, I have lots and lots of good reasons for keeping her at an arm's length (it became clear that this was necessary when my kids were born, for their well-being...you'll just have to take my word for it). But still...I yearn for what so many other moms have, which I won't ever have: a mother to nurture me while I nurture my kids. I think about this a lot on days like today.

We drove yesterday to visit my in-laws for Rosh Hashanah. It's a long trip both ways, especially when you factor in toddler whining and crying and kindergartner demandingness. So, today we were exhausted; but still, there were the usual chores to do...I spent the entire day doing chores, running errands, and cooking for the next week. And, in the midst of all of this, I felt like crying out of self-pity. I am so tired of giving and care-taking, and I want a little pay back. GEH gives me what he can, but he is tired, too, from all the giving and care-taking he's doing on his end. And, anyhow, what I need can't just come from him. I need the support of another woman. I joke that I need a wife, but, really, I need a mother: one whom I can rely on, who nurtures, who cooks, who listens, and who knows, loves, and plays with my kids (they need this, too).

I barely ever let myself consider what motherhood would be like if I were close to my mom. The vision is just too far from reality...it's like looking at the sun--if I do it for more than a second it becomes hot, blinding, and painful.

So, there. Now you know.