Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The bleepity bleeping mowing

The mowing has become highly symbolic of my inability to get everything done.

Today I got off work early (no problem, I'll just show up early and skip lunch....!) so that I could take Katherine to gymnastics.  It's sunny in my rainy corner of the world, so I decided to drop Katherine off, rush back through rush hour traffic to get home to mow the lawn.  I changed out of a skirt and heels and into the ridiculous rubber boots and a pair of shorts, cleaned up the dog poop in the yard, and pulled out the mower.

It didn't start.

My darling angel, once again, unplugged it to go into the storage area under the porch and use it as a playhouse.

It's a good thing she's not here right now or I'd scream at her - I don't think I could stop myself.

I am so freaking tired.  I have so much work to do for my new job.  And if I can't mow the grass, then why the hell did I come home in rush hour traffic?

Tomorrow is her choir concert, followed by a late work meeting.  Thursday is gymnastics again.

***

I am independent.  I CAN do it all, even though my yard looks like crap.  My child is fed, loved, educated.  I am the hands on mom with most things.  She eats home made food 90% of the time.  My house is relatively tidy.

But not being able to mow the lawn tonight nearly has me in tears.  I'm doing backflips to get things done by myself, and it's hard, and I could use a break.

***
All across my pretty city, friends of mine are coming home to partners who fix the salad and man the grill and mow the lawn and help get their kids to sports activities and check homework and make lunches.  Not all at once, of course, and not every day....but they're there, and they're helping.

God help me, tonight I'm jealous.

Mostly I want a partner to have sex with and dive into the alpine lake with; mostly I want someone who gazes into my eyes over candlelight and cares about my feelings and discusses world affairs and culture with me.  Mostly I want someone to travel with, someone to snuggle with on Sunday mornings, someone who brings me a mug of coffee in the morning.

But today?

Today I want someone who will mow the lawn.  Someone who will take a look at the car, because it's making a funny sound and I'm afraid of what the mechanic might say.  Someone who, if I'm at gymnastics with the girl, will fold the two baskets of laundry that await me in my room.

Mostly, I want him to mow the lawn.  And edge the yard.  And replant the rose bushes, because the lavender grew and now they're too close together.

I want someone to say, "Hey!  You're working REALLY hard - I don't know how you do all of that!  You're amazing, but why don't you let me do half of it?"

If someone did 1/8 of it today I'd weep from gratitude.  I can't even imagine what it would be like to have someone who did 1/2 of it, but the mere idea makes me want to tremble.

***
I did not work during my marriage in part because I had a husband who expected me to do everything else.  Whether it was vacation, Christmas, or anything else, he didn't want to help, even when we had a small child and even when I was sick with cancer treatment.  When we talked about me going back to work and I asked him to help with meals and housework, he said no.  No explanation, just "no."  I proposed that he make 2-3 meals a week - not half! - and he said no.  He was unemployed for major time periods, and he still said no.

It's much easier to do it all by myself when he's not here making me feel bad, criticizing how I do things, complaining about the food I cook.  I'm proud of my ability to do it all, proud that I CAN get things done, more or less.

***
But this minute?

I wish some fantastic lover would show up and mow my lawn, because it's not done and I have to get back in the car and pick up my daughter from gymnastics.

*****************************
Follow up, 8pm:

While I wrote that post, the lawnmower was charging, and before I returned to gymnastics I was able to get the front mowed.  I went back to gymnastics to pick up Katherine, scolded her only mildly for unplugging the damned thing (it really is good that she wasn't here when I found her error because I was in a bad mood!), then went back and mowed the back yard.

The parking strip still isn't done because I could not face maneuvering the lawnmower down a few steps to get it done, but the rest of it got done.  And you know what? I always mow my neighbor's adjoining parking strip, every single time, and maybe he'll see it and mow mine this time.  (He won't, as he never has, in all these years.  But I can dream.)

It's good to be able to do all of this.

But I'm tired.

Katherine is in her post-gymnastics shower, and will soon go to bed.  I will, too, as soon as she does.  I'm weary, and in my weariness I'm not my best self: mowing the lawn isn't that big of a deal and I don't know why it set me off.

I am so glad to be working again.

But I am so tired!

No comments:

Post a Comment