The Suburban Jungle

I went out shopping with my mom the other day and I felt guilty, not because I was breaking my necessary self-imposed shopping ban, but because I had left my kids. I had left them not with a babysitter, but with my husband. They were not doing child labor; they were simply going to a movie.

I couldn’t pinpoint the cause of the feeling I was having. Maybe it was guilt brought on by the fear of sending them off alone with their dad. Would something happen without my guidance? He had never taken both kids to a movie, so the neurotic mom in me reiterated that popcorn is a choking hazard, and they should eat it one kernel at a time. I added, “Don’t let them go to the bathroom alone.” You never know who’s lurking in the stalls.

Maybe the guilt was over the fact that it was Sunday and I don’t get as much time during the week with my kids, considering they have no break between school and camp. Maybe I simply felt guilty about missing all the fun the “UP 3-D” experience had to offer: The sticky floors crackling beneath my feet. My daughter complaining that the 3-D glasses hurt her face and that watching without them hurt her eyes. One or both of them inevitably spilling something gooey or fluorescent blue on me. I know you’re thinking, stop romanticizing it.

The irony was that I had chosen to do something with my own mother instead. Should that not be of some value, spending time with her? Do I not have some obligation to spend time with my own mom even though I can wipe myself? Does my husband having a day with the kids not fulfill some need they may have for alone time with him?

I remember a therapist, who also happens to be my Step Mother, telling me a story once. She said, “There was once a mom who had one egg and three children to feed. Do you know what she did?”

“Split it 3 ways and feed her hungry children?”

“She went to her room, locked the door, and ate the egg.”

“Ugh, what a horrible story. The mom locked herself in with the egg? What did she do next, eat her children?”

“Jenny, what is the matter with you? The kids need the mom more than they need the egg. If she takes care of herself she can better take care of her children. She could have split that one egg three ways and then passed out and then what would they have?”

“Scrambled eggs?”

“You’re missing the point.”

Here of course is the point, which is easier to impart than to accept. Taking a break from being a mom doesn’t make you a bad mom. You are other things… a wife, a daughter, an (insert profession or hobby here,) you need to give yourself the freedom to be those things as well. Sometimes “selfishly” taking care of yourself makes you a happier person and therefore a better mom.

I know, the theory sounds so obvious, it need not be stated and yet I know only a handful of people so evolved as to live by it. I am working on becoming more evolved as we speak, I am ignoring my son, who is begging me to play Wii so, I can finish writing this bl

I was asking people their thoughts on positive thinking when my friend Sandy told me a story about finding her “By the time I’m 40” wish list. One of the items on the list was not to do the nails of an elderly lady at her home in the evening anymore. She didn’t have the heart to cancel her weekly appointments, which had been long standing. “And would you believe it, the woman died right before my 40^th birthday? For a while I thought I killed her,” she explained with an odd sense of accomplishment. “Talk about powerful thinking. What a stroke of luck, well a stroke of some kind. Though, I bet she would have preferred that you simply canceled on her.”

That tale made me realize that more interesting than the power of positive thinking, is the power we give our thoughts. I should probably warn you, I can control things with my mind. Bad things. Like many people raised with Judeo Christian values, I was taught through guilt and fear of jinxes. In Judism it’s called a kinahura, in Christianity it’s knock on wood. The idea is not to tempt fate.

Though I am a pretty positive thinker, I mostly control negative occurrences. For example, if it’s raining it is most likely because I contemplated bringing an umbrella with me that day and ended up leaving it home, or at the very least I had my car washed. I take full credit and I apologize.

My husband is a genetically positive thinker or just a cocky bastard. He says things that I literally choke on like, “Don’t worry, what do you think could happen?” I recently convinced myself that a three hour power outage was part of a terrorist operation to attack Weston, and you want ME to conjure a list of possible mishaps?

On our way to Atlantis he said something like, “We never lose at that casino. In fact I’m on a winning streak. I can’t even remember the last time I lost gambling.” I say, “Gag, gag. I’m sure you’ve lost and you just don’t recall,” in a vein attempt to appease the gods of humility. So we rush down to the craps table and he excitedly throws down a pile of chips and do you know what happens. That’s right he wins and I lose.

I read ‘The Secret,’ like everyone else. I get a spot in front of Publix every time because, gosh darn it, I just know I will. Also, I am prepared to circle for an abnormally long amount of time. I wish for good things, and I believe they will happen. Everyday, I am sure it will be the day I win the lottery. I wish it to be true. I visualize it happening. I plan how I am going to blow my money and yet I have never won. I’m sure there are other factors that go into determining such an outcome. For instance not buying lottery tickets probably affects my chances in some remote way.

I envision myself having a column in the NY Post. I know you enjoy my writing so much that you will write a long glowing comment and then send the blog to all of your friends with an attachment that calls me the most brilliant writer you’ve ever encountered. Either that or you will quickly erase your email subscription while mumbling, cocky bitch. Just for the record, I visualize you choosing the first option.

I’m am sure you have already subscribed to the blog, but if you haven’t for some unknown reason, please do so immediately.