Shouldering the Burden

I don't know about anyone else out there, but I dread Monday mornings.  I never had this problem while I was in college, grad school, or while working as a writer for the Robotics Department at the University of Kentucky.

Unfortunately work is now the bane of my existence. Sunday nights, around 6:00 p.m., I start to get sad because Monday morning is twelve hours away.  Monday morning I always feel like being sick so I don't have to go to work.  It's really sad, but between the drive to King of Prussia and putting up with office politics, I would rather be home.

My problem also stems from having too much to do and not enough time to do it. Today I would have much prefered to stay home and finish ironing and plant my spring bulbs in the ground, but that isn't going to happen.  The daffodil bulbs finally cleared US customs (I order my bulbs from Holland), and now they are sitting in a box in my garage.  They need to be planted soon, and luckily I am off on Friday.  My friend wanted to do something with our girls on Friday, as Emily as off from school. However, considering the cost of the bulbs and the opportunity to get something for my house accomplished, I don't forsee me having time.

What I don't understand is the criticism that I receive from people.  I am empathetic by nature, and I don't get how my friends don't understand that I am not necessarily reclusive, but sometimes I don't have the time to hang with them.  Time is a gift, and if I can give some of it, I will.  However, my married, stay-at-home Mom friends have more time to do chores while their husbands are at work. So, their weekends can be fun. I have both roles, and that makes it difficult for me to have a lot of free time.  The last two weekends I've had birthdays, so there has been some time spent celebrating.  I am actually looking forward to having Friday off, and the thought of doing anything other than my own chores seems unreasonable to me.

For once I would love if one of my friends would try to really understand the magnitude of my responsibilities. I work outside of the home approximately 60 hours a week (between commute and OT), do all of the housework/yard work, food shop, perform volunteer work for Emily's school and Girl Scouts, chauffer Em to ballet, and do some school work with Emily. I don't know why it is so hard to understand that I don't have a lot of time to myself, so that's why I run around in minimal makeup, no nail polish, hope to get exercise in (I can't keep a date with myself to save my life), and chug coffee to keep me on the go.  No, I don’t have any interest in hanging out with your Moms' club friends.  You probably wouldn’t want me to tell them to stop whining and to be greatful that they have a partner to complain about.  You know I would--especially if I had a drink in my hand.  No, I don't have time to read the latest novels or see the latest movies. Please don't tell me about the fifteen minutes that I could have before I go to bed, as I go to bed at midnight and wake up at 5:00. If I'm sick, my responsibilities don't stop. I go to work if possible because if Emily gets sick, I will need to use my sick time then.  There’s no extra pair of hands to pick up slack.  I live in a house of cards, and the slightest breeze topples everything.  By the time I get home to my house, it's 7:00 p.m.  Emily needs a bath and to get ready for school the next day--the pets need attention, and the house needs attention. I'm up on world events, though, and tend to read Newsweek faithfully.

Moreover, don't tell me that I'm not happy all the time--I'm frazzled, tired, and a bit weary of shouldering the responsibilities myself.  It takes a toll.  There's a certain loneliness inherent in making decisions yourself, and each day my independent streak grows fiercer.  No man carried me over the threshold of my first house--I think about that sometimes.  It can make you feel unworthy or unloveable when you dwell on thoughts like that, so it's not that I necessarily twist things around in my mind--it's a rough life, and living it is going to change your perceptions.  Yes, I've surrounded my heart like the barbed wire fences at Guantanamo Bay. Here's the ugly truth that you can't handle--unless you've stood on that wall feeling like it's you against the world, don't criticize the defense mechanisms that are erected.  How many hits are you going to take before you grow fierce? What I have I've earned on my own ("gotten the hard way" as Mary Chapin Carpenter would sing), so the steely sense of purpose that's part of my personality is necessary for survival.  Sorry if I'm not as sentimental and soft as I used to be.  Sex is just sex--and love, a nice concept for some, but not all are so lucky.  No, I don't want to go shopping with you while you pick out the jewelry that your husband is going to buy you for Christmas anymore than you would want to pour salt on an open wound.

I pity the man who would ever be foolish enough to really like me (if there is such a fool on the planet), as I'm used to doing everything myself.  Learning to trust someone and making joint decisions would be a painful experience. There is a line in Gone With the Wind where Rhett Butler tells Scarlet that he wants to teach her to play because she's forgotten how.  She's shouldered the responsibility of her family and Tara long enough, and it's time for her to let go of that responsibility.  Of course Rhett Butler has the financial means to provide this gift.  Like Scarlet, I don’t play.  I’m too busy keeping the wolves off the door of my own Tara to have a lot of fun.

I don't even know if I have enough faith in the marital partnership to sustain a belief in the institution anymore.  I would never do anything to jeopardize anyone's marriage, as most women don't prosper as single Moms.  All of those smug marrieds out there tend to look down on me—and I don’t want pity.  I actually feel more sorry for some of them—their husbands are out in their garages or in their dens immersed un their own activities instead of nurturing a partnership.  I see the a lot of flaws in the institution that I never used to think about. I don't always see that marriage is fulfilling for people.  Even the married couples on my block seem to have carved out separate niches for themselves.  If the situation isn't going to enhance your life, why do it?  I listen to how my friends talk to one another and I wonder if a house in the suburbs and a comfortable lifestyle (and free time) is worth the pain. Maybe that's the trade-off, though.  You are happier with someone than you are if you were living my lifestyle.

Another friend of mine is divorced and lives with her parents and daughter.  She is a wonderful painter, and takes painting classes each week.  Her ex-husband sees her daughter every weekend, so she has time to take painting classes and have an active social life without shortcutting time with her daughter. She's been with her current boyfriend since her separation, so the loneliness and self-doubt that plague someone who has been alone isn't part of her world. She seems to enjoy her life, and tells me that she is in no rush to get married.  However, she does have a strong attention/support network. Sometimes I think she's very lucky to have a rich, rewarding life.

I don't hate my life, but I wouldn't recommend the role of single parent to anyone. 

There's a line in the movie "Peyton Place" where the narrator speaks of the end of senior year's high school summer and the ensuing Labor Day weekend as the "shouldering of the responsibility of Monday mornings."  Link to Peyton Place:  http://www.meekermuseum.com/literacy.html.  I have never read the book, so I can't say if it is the author's expression, or the words of a script writer, but the phrase is really wonderful.