Mid-life crisis

I have been whining for years that I need time alone. Being the mother of three, I can rarely pee without having a conversation with a child. Mom, who would win in a fight? Batman or Wolverine? Could we have this riveting debate after I wipe my vagina?

Well, I’ve finally got time to myself and I don’t know what the hell to do. This morning I sat and cried with another mother over coffee. This woman had no idea what she was getting into when she invited me. Our tearful conversation began at the cash register. The barista was training and couldn’t figure out how to key in my order. She may have been frazzled because a middle aged woman was having a nervous breakdown near the scones. An elderly man with a crisp button down shirt and pleated pants (Hello, 1994 is on hold and would like to speak with you.) was standing in line directly behind us. I could practically feel his breath on my neck. He was huffing and puffing because the line wasn’t moving fast enough. He finally tapped my shoulder and asked, “What’s the hold up?” Today is not the day to mess with me. I know you are eager to sit down and read 50 Shades of Grey while sipping coffee with a sugar substitute, but back off grandpa. That is what I wanted to say, but I was taught to respect my elders. I shrugged my shoulders and walked away. He doesn’t care about my mid-life crisis. For goodness sake, he doesn’t even care that his nose hairs are trying to escape, dangling inches from his upper lip.

It hit me like a ton of bricks today. It is the beginning of school for my children, but the end for me. The end of changing diapers, rocking a baby to sleep or teaching a toddler to walk. There are no more babies. My uterus is spent. This phase of my life is over. Sure, my children will always need me, but less and less. My daughter didn’t shed a single tear on her first day. In fact, she was eager for me to leave. I peeked around the corner to see her smiling, playing with another girl. I was proud of my confident, independent little girl. My heart ached realizing how much my baby has grown. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, put on my sunglasses and walked out the door. I suppose it’s time to get to know myself. Well, that or beat the hell out of senior citizens at coffee shops.

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