by Marinka on March 21, 2013
Today is Thursday and my son and husband are in sunny Florida and my daughter and I are in snowy New York City. I am starting to suspect that I am doing marriage wrong.
But the good news is that we will all be going to Florida this weekend, so it’s not like we’re going to miss out on the action. And by “action” I mean worrying about sinkholes and hurricanes and thunderstorms, and alligators and/0r crocodiles. I was feeling pretty good about my Worry List and then someone mentioned casually that pythons are eating the entire Florida population, so I had to update and revise my list. This whole python situation is really the last thing I need right now, by the way.
Before my son left, he and my daughter had a brief but meaningful fight about who this trip is more unfair to. He thinks it’s more unfair to him because she gets to bring a friend with her and she thinks it’s more unfair to her because the only reason we’re going to Florida in the first place is because that’s where his beloved Mets have spring training and apparently we have to watch that. (Note to self: update Worry List, again.)
I don’t know how the unfairness Olympics ended because I retired to my room to read a book and/or fashion a noose.
But I’m hoping that this trip will give me the energy to start writing my memoir again. I am hoping this despite the fact that no previous trip has ever done that for me, but if there’s one thing I am it’s an optimist. And a liar.
Have a nice weekend!
Update (within a post titled “UPDATE”):
My son just sent me this:
by Marinka on March 11, 2013
I knew that it was inevitable, but I didn’t think it would happen in a room full of people.
Yesterday afternoon I attended my first rehearsal for Listen to Your Mother and to start we had to go around the room and introduce ourselves. Whenever I hear anything along the lines of “let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves” I want to leave the room instead because the pressure to sum myself up in a few sentences is too great. But I’m an adult now and I know that introductions are what normal people do, so I don’t leave the room, nor do I start thinking about what I’m going to say when it’s my turn. Instead I listen to what people are saying about themselves and I laugh and sometimes not laugh because they have interesting, compelling stories and I feel lucky to share whatever space they let me with them and trust that when it’s my turn, somehow I’ll be able to wing it.
And I do. I say my name, that I am a humor writer and that my blog is Motherhood in NYC, which is ironic because my children do not want me to blog about them, so I’m facing a dilemma.
This isn’t new, of course, my daughter has asked me, told me, cease and desisted me not to write about her anymore. My son followed suit, and although he’s younger, and I feel more proprietary about his stories, I want to respect his wishes too. What’s new, what surprised me, is that it just came out, that I said it out loud and that my blog world didn’t stop spinning.
I still have this space and I can’t imagine giving it up anytime soon.
I have many stories to tell– it’s almost spring, so I’m once again trying to get healthy and lose weight (I even joined a private Facebook weight loss challenge group where I have to photograph myself on the scale every week, OMG); I suspect I’m drinking too much, I’m getting closer to 50 than 40, I’m reading more than ever and am convinced that every modern American novel describes a woman as “beautiful” somewhere within its pages. But I’m struggling a little to find a way to make it work. And I am mourning the stories that I can no longer tell.
I hope I find a way. Because yes, I consider myself a humor blogger, but there’s a tiny piece of me that answers to “mom blogger” as well. And I’m not sure what to do with that piece now.
