Shaking Through

Maybe I'm just having one of those hormonal days, but today I'm feeling that I'm only squeaking by in life. I will never be the one at the office to win an award for--well, anything. I'll always get the job done, but I don't feel that I'm excelling. I'm an adequate mother in that I'm keeping a roof over my child's head and food in her belly, but I'm not always understanding what she really needs. And as far as being a good wife, I'm only doing the bare minimum to keep Nearly Perfect Husband from leaving me for someone more attentive.

But here in the the Maryland suburbs, I seem to be surrounded by people who are succeeding. It seems like no one in Montgomery County does anything half way. Their houses are huge, their cars are sparkling, their kids are high achievers, and even their marriages don't reveal their cracks by the light of day. I thought I had a good salary--theirs are better. I thought I had a responsible job--theirs are better, or better yet, they're such good moms they don't even work. They totally devote themselves to driving their kids to numerous practices and lessons, and then, supposedly, they have quality family time when they all get home.

These people even excel at being tired. The busiest mom gets the bragging rights, and it seems that while their comments adopt the language of complaint, their first language is the boast. They're proud of how tired they are, dammit, when all I can think about is how the hell can I spend time with my family, do my job, and actually get enough sleep at night so that I don't have to nap in my car during my lunch hour just to keep from falling asleep at my desk or, horrors, during a meeting.

And when I try to tell these tired moms that my daughter has frustrated me lately, they look at me sympathetically, but they never chime in with their own parenting issues. Never. If I say that Fiona's being snarky and disrespectful, they never offer their own stories. "Really?" they say. "I would never put up with that."

So it's back on me again, the mediocre mom, boss, and wife--the woman with the only disrespectful child in the Metro DC area.

I think they're lying. I think their kids are equally rotten, if not more so. I know their kids are lying to them. I know their husbands occasionally cheat on them and often ignore them. I know there are plenty of nights when they turn their cheeks for a kiss in a clear signal that nothing else will be forthcoming. I know that success is sometimes only a fashion that they wear, but I'm still left bemused by their desire to wear it.

I want out. I want the freedom to admit I ain't all that. When I was a kid, I knew lots of mediocre people leading dull lives, and they were very nice. They were the "salt of the earth." If I'm destined to always finish in the middle of the pack, I want that to be okay.

Who is the Poet Laureate of the ordinary?

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