Call me narcissist if you must but this blog is all about ME. I have another blog about my kids, whom I love and adore writing about. But I was Nicole a long time before I was mom and I don't intend to give up being Nicole overnight.

p.s.
You can read all about my kids at Naptime Optional.
Or you can follow along on our Arizona adventure on my 365 project blog.

Friday, June 27, 2008

20 to life

The walls of my house feel like a prison. As long as I am within its walls I feel obligated to be scrubbing, changing, mopping, folding, dusting, wiping, washing, organizing or feeding something. And it’s worse than a treadmill. Because no matter home often I scrub, change, mop, fold, dust, wipe, wash, organize or feed I turn around only to find it’s worse than when I began. There’s no safe haven I can retreat to because everywhere I go within these walls there is something demanding my attention. And I wish I could just shut it out. I wish I could ignore it. But I think I have some sort of genetic abnormality that causes me to HAVE to clean. And I can’t shut it off. And I want to. So badly I want to. Because I don’t want to be held hostage to my house anymore! I want my prison sentence to be over. But every time I ask I’m reminded that I’m serving a life sentence with no possibility of parole.

But sometimes I dream of escape. I lie in bed at night and think of all the things I rather be doing. And so sometimes I attempt a breakout. Before the house knows my plans I gather up the kids and we get in the car and we just go somewhere. And for a minute or two I actually think I’ve gotten away with it, too. But then disaster always ensues. Always. Because no matter how far I run I can never run away from the pooping, peeing, puking, fighting, biting, crying, running, pushing, throwing, breaking hysteria that are my kids. Do you have any idea what it’s like to go out in public with 3 small kids? And I realize that this is the house’s punishment for trying to leave. It lets me leave, knowing that I’ll always be back. And then it can torment me again.

And that’s how it goes. Day after day after day. Inside my house feels like prison. Outside my house feels like cruel and unusual punishment. I’m trapped in an unending cycle.

8 comments:

orangemily said...

Man, that sounds terrible!
Maybe it's really a good thing that I don't feel the need to clean all the time at home (I know some days I should feel the need to clean, but I don't).

Karen said...

I do know what it is like to take 3 small children out in public. UGHH! That is not the house punishing you. Even a demented house would not be so cruel. Girl, you need a vacation.

Andria said...

I also know what it's like to take three kids out in public. I'm so glad I had another one so I could feel your pain! But you know from coming over to my apartment last week that I don't feel the need to clean. But now that I'm starting to feel better, I do feel guilty about not cleaning.

Jodi said...

I think you need a revolution!
Punish the house!

Krista said...

I can relate. And then the kids are bored because it's summer vacation and there's no one to play with. I want to die.

HeidiPie said...

Break free all you can!!

Dana said...

Just imagine....one day you will be 90 years old and look back fondly on days like this!

Somyr said...

I applaud your courage to articulate your deep thoughts about motherhood, marriage, having grown up responsibilities. It's so odd to me that some of the comments are focused on your cleaning comment; they totally missed the boat. Although we love our children fiercely and adore our husbands unconditionally, the lives we choose can feel quite confining at times and lonely, in spite of our many blessings.