This Post is Not Pretty
If you dropped by for insight on blogger relations, or the art and science of public relations, you might want to check back later. I’m in Personal Me mode at the moment and it’s not pretty. Before I tell you why, let me splash a big fat caveat across this post stating that I love my life, my job, my family and am grateful for all of it. I know I’m blessed, in a cerebral, enlightened kind of way. However. The reptilian part of my brain, the part no amount of pharmacology or Oprah can reach, feels differently. The Lizard Queen is cranky, hates everyone and everything, here’s why.
She hates that I had to leave my house at 9 am last Sunday to catch a plane for a cross-country business trip that may or may not have been worth the effort. She hates that the day prior I was short and snappish with my sweet son who just wanted me to help him build his new Lego Star Wars MagnaGuard Starfighter for crying out loud. She hates that I chose to put more energy into my stupid powerpoint presentation and what shoes to pack than being with my kid. She hates that I felt the need to assuage my maternal guilt by buying the kid off with ice cream at Dunkin’ Donuts, which would maybe have been okay except that I optimized the moment by diving head-first into a “31 Below” shake with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (kinda like a DQ Blizzard, pretty awesome and no, that wasn’t a paid endorsement.) She hates that I sat on the stupid tarmac at stupid Newark “At Liberty to Delay You” Airport for an hour for mysterious reasons handed down from on high by Air Traffic Control. Screw you, Newark Air Traffic Control. She hated the seatmate whose furiously self-important texting with her stubby french manicure digits made me want to throw my own Blackberry out the window and never use it again, and who informed me I needed to power down my iPod because the cabin door had closed which *phew* was fortunate because gee I’ve NEVER FLOWN BEFORE. She hates that I’m genetically unable to pace myself at work so that I’m not constantly facing last minute deadlines and insanity. She hates that my best writing can only get done after 5:30 PM which is great for my concentration (no pesky colleagues or phones) but sucky for the husband and kid waiting patiently at home. She hates that I don’t have time like the other moms in my town to get more involved in school activities and make it to daytime spinning and yoga classes every single day and while I’m on that topic, boy does she hate that I seem to be one of two moms in my town who hasn’t managed to LOSE THE BABY WEIGHT and yes, my “baby” is six years old. She hates that I pour more passion into my job than caring for my family my husband.
*sigh.* She obviously is me, which I guess makes this a kinda self-loathing post. This blog really isn’t THAT kind of blog – i.e. soul-baring, self-flagellating, warts-exposing. I mean, I’ve got bosses and clients and co-workers reading this stuff. But plenty of those people are working moms too and I guess I’m just in a mood – or at least, the Lizard Queen is in a mood – to pull back the curtain for a second on this whole “having it all” thing. Because the truth my truth is – you can’t have it all. What you CAN have are the choices you make – good, bad, smart, stupid, reptilian or enlightened. You make ‘em, and you live with ‘em. Powerpoint versus Legos. Fat versus skinny. Job versus husband.
I tweeted recently (ironically) about being a woman of many facets. Nice image. Suggests a sparkly diamond. I may have many facets, I just don’t like all of them at the moment. This too shall pass, of course. I’ll find my way back to “loving the flawed diamond that I am” or some other Oprah-y, Paxil-y hoo-ha. But for the moment, the Lizard Queen has control over the keyboard which may, now that I think about it, be the best way to deal with her. Give her air time, let her vent, and hope the bitch goes slithering back into her lair.
Could I be alone in this? What do you do when your reptilian brain starts getting feisty?