About two weeks ago I woke up from a sleep that started four years ago. Four years ago I fell into motherhood and forgot that I was ever anything else. I became consumed with parenting, and, by extension, wife-ing. I spent every minute of every day trying to manage the lives of our home’s inhabitants. Trying to keep them fed, clothed, amused. Trying to manage the finances and the social calendar. Trying to establish family traditions and make every piece of detritus into an heirloom. Trying to be the perfect mother and wife and daughter and daughter-in-law. I haven’t stopped trying for four years. I am tired.And then, as if by goddamn witchcraft, Josh presented me with this piece of glamour:
And, amidst all that straining to become something new, I lost completely who I already was. Just dissolved into Dash’s life. And Josh’s. Then, two weeks ago, I woke up and I remembered the old me, with the old last name and the fangs and yearning. I remembered being brave and funny and mean and smart. I remembered paying more than $16 for a haircut (once, I bought a dress that cost $400). I remembered paying myself some attention. Maybe not as much as I could. But some. Now it’s like I don’t even exist.
Two weeks ago I woke up and I realized that I want some of previous me's life back. Not everything. Not the drugs or the leather pants or the necklace that spelled out “FUCK” in rhinestones. But something. Some part of me that doesn’t just circle back to them. Some part of me that is for me only.
So. Now what? Do I just wait to fall back asleep? Dissolve back into the lives of the men I am building? Or do I try to stay awake? Try to get some part of me back? And if I choose option B then what, exactly, would that entail?
Dinner at the Water Grill, bitches! The table was set with white napkins, but when the host noticed we were wearing black, he just swept them away and brought back black ones. So we didn't get linty. Also, the wine list included a bottle for $6,000. Six. Thousand. Dollars. I took a picture but you couldn't read the number. But at least all the iPhone photography alerted the waitress to the caliber of guest she was dealing with: bumpkins, yo!
Amuse-bouche. Consider our bouches amused.
(I'll spare you further pictures of our meal, but just know this: they know what the fuck they're doing over there at the Water Grill.)
OK, I lied. One more picture. This is the remains of dessert. I will note here that there were these, like, cookie-crumby things on the plate & I tasted some and it was cake crumbs sauteed in butter. CAKE CRUMBS SAUTEED IN BUTTER. That is what separates us from the animals right there.
And then, and then, there was this. Four Seasons at Disney Hall. Seriously. Sometimes it's so easy to take this city for granted, but Christ. Just look at this place.
So, in conclusion: Nice prescience, Josh. Thank you for remembering that I'm a chick & bringing me back round to closer to normal.