saturday

I'm never really quite certain where the balance is when it comes to writing about the living. I don't, for instance, write about my mother in law, even though there are things I could write. I listened to a cd by Anne Lamott one time that talked about this topic. It is walking that tightrope between, "Damn the editors" and "living in a family with some measure of harmony."

I doubt she reads my blog (MIL not Lamott). It could happen. Would I care? Not much and not for long. She pretty much just forwards pithy, pseudo-feminist spam (self-centered, stereotypical, shopping, body-conscious, male-bashing) with never an original thought. Oh. Did I say that in my out loud voice?

So I'm a shitty wife. I am. I come home on Friday and I don't want to dedicate this weekend or any other to anybody else. I am socially exhausted. I take care of other people's families all day every day for money. I don't care if its Mother's Day weekend. I don't get to see my mother or my son, so I'm mad. I love my husband. I really do. I just can't, at 50-something, have a new mom. I can't bond. It ain't gonna happen. There you have it.

So, this weekend is Haley's graduation from Northwest YouthCorps. She's been in the outback of Oregon blazing trails and eating stew from a dutch oven. She's a gnarly kid anyway. We will drive down to Eugene to see her graduate, and we adults will all be piled in the front seat of our truck. Hubby, me and MOM. I'm not looking forward to it.

My hope is that today will count as Mother's Day. Two for one. I am not a nice person.