Random Words Wednesday

EVERY so often, I am outside myself. I look at me, at her, and wonder what is she all about? Is she really just this fem-bot going about her motherly-wifely duties?

Who is this woman who ferries two kids to playgroup? Can she possibly be the same woman who would headbang to Rage Against the Machine in front of the club’s speakers so every angry note could reverberate through her body?

Is this woman, the one with bed-hair and a clothes basket on her hip, the same woman who could interview the Premier at a moment’s notice and remind him of election promises left unmet?

Is this woman – the one scribbling furiously while a pile of wet towels stares blankly back at her – is she the same woman who spent hours in the library cramming for exams, filling her head with Inverted Pyramids, Ego-States and rules of communication?

Can this woman, the one wiping away tears and snot from a little face with ease and love, be the same woman who broke someone’s heart?

How can this woman, who travelled alone overseas, be satisfied with a life that demands she be home in time for naps every day?

Has she let the rigours of motherhood steal away her person? Does she recognise herself at all anymore?

You see, that’s the thing. I don’t see myself in the mirror anymore.

But I can see myself. Perhaps clearer now than I thought I could when I was young, self-obsessed and filled with verve.

I see myself at night, in the dark. I see all the things I did. All that I do now. Deciding that the rollercoaster of marriage and children is more rewarding than the rollercoaster of romance and office politics.

For me, at least.

I’m more whole this way. More wholesome. I may look like everything has evaporated, leaving behind this cardboard cut-out of every mother with a mop in her hand. But it’s all still here – all the same passion, fear, conviction that I always possessed.

It’s all inside waiting for 15 minutes to get spewed out onto a page, onto a keyboard, into a voice recorder.

In the meantime, I get to build this life around the people I love and be happy with my lot. But I’ll permit myself to dance with the kids to M-rated songs, just so they know I’m not just their mum, I’m that other woman too.

8 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. jentbrave
    Jun 08, 2011 @ 06:58:51

    nice pic, pete 😀 that clown, britney spears and skeleton dog look awfully familiar 🙂 Pretty spooky too! Wouldn’t want to run into THAT gang in a dark alley!


  2. petajo
    Jun 08, 2011 @ 07:03:38

    They would seriously wreck you, I imagine! *snigger…


  3. Sif
    Jun 10, 2011 @ 02:21:32

    Interesting questions! I often divide my life mini-lives; the life I live in Europe with my family and in the Salvation Army; the life I lived in Australia, at uni before kids; and the life I’ve lived since meeting my husband and having four kids… For me, the fact that I’ve also legally changed my name during each of these mini-lives makes it feel as if I really was a different woman each life (not I don’t have multiple personality disorder, LOL)… Interesting.


    • petajo
      Jun 13, 2011 @ 05:13:17

      Wow – what an interesting life/lives! Name-changing would certainly make differentiating them easier 😉


  4. Gemma
    Jun 10, 2011 @ 11:07:19

    “just so they know I’m not just their mum, I’m that other woman too”. I love that bit. Sometimes is is incredibly hard to be both, but when the kids get to see you from a new perspective a whole world opens for them too.

    My husband worked from home today so tonight we did homemade pizzas with the three kids, with our music on. They enjoy it just as much as we do, but they were guests at ‘our’ party tonight. fun!


    • petajo
      Jun 13, 2011 @ 05:09:06

      I love that idea, Gemma – treating your kids like they’re guests at your party. May have to steal that one!


  5. Mandy Ferry
    Jun 10, 2011 @ 21:48:19

    the reality is, when we are enjoying romance and office politics, we are all just craving what we have now. I’d never turn back. But occasionally a night out to have a bit of fun is good for the soul.


    • petajo
      Jun 13, 2011 @ 05:08:08

      So true Mandy… I can easily recall the days of wishing I didn’t have to go into the office. I know “she” would look at my life now and be insanely jealous!


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