Lunatic Fringe

     It never ceases to amaze me how impossible it is to just have 10 minutes to myself.  I am not even qualifying that with "when you have kids, when you're married, when it's the weekend."

     There I was, on a Sunday morning, looking to watch a nice marathon of Fringe episodes--the ones I mostly missed when it was on the first time around.  In a span of 15 minutes, Rose needed to be fed, Punkgirl needed to tell me about every single moment of Dance Moms, and Coffeeguy wanted me to read a page-long Rolling Stone article about why Lena Dunham doesn't like to have sex (this last was during one of the episodes i really wanted to see, so needless to say, the article probably wasn't given its fair shake.  I was unimpressed and vaguely annoyed.)  Happyboy got extra super bonus points for sitting quietly in the corner of my room, until I moved into the living room and he proceeded to invade my space by scrunching up against me on the couch, making me squirm like a lunatic as I just wanted to have some time where nobody was touching me.  (I'll post more about being "touched out" later.)

     It's not that I don't want to chat with Coffeeguy, or hear about what interests Punkgirl, or cuddle with Happyboy.  It's not even that I don't want Rose to commandeer a part of my day.  But sometimes, just sometimes, I want to remember who I am, or more accurately, figure out who I am, and it's impossible to do when my every minute is defined by someone else.  

     Now, come on, Sucky Mom, how is watching a show that isn't even on the air any more going to help you figure out who you are? Aren't you just using that as an excuse to say you want time to yourself?  Well, honestly, partly...but in an odd way this show that I watched when I knew my place in the world is like a connection to that person, and when I'm watching it I feel like if I can connect with her, I can find me again.  

     Sounds kind of silly, doesn't it?  But I'm so anxious to find me that silly doesn't deter me in the least.  Coffeeguy turned that connection to my former self back on in the living room, Rose was playing happily on the floor, and Happyboy had just moved over so that I could breathe a little, and I thought, ah, at last, I can watch the show for a few minutes in peace......

     The phone rang.  My nephew in CA, whose call I had felt so terrible for missing the last three times he had called.  Sigh.  We had a great conversation, and I didn't miss the call....but it still sucked.