All These Things That I've Done
I was hiding out at my coffee shop again yesterday morning.
They were sawing away at pipes in the bathroom and the sound of it was excruciating.
The coffee shop is nice (it's not *$ - which is yummy but filthy) and I can trade banter with the owner or listen to my iPod.
Sadly, I realized that, once again, I was there during the meeting of the mother's group.
Last week I sat just in front of them while they told stories of trial and terror with sick newborns.
I don't mean newborns in the NICU, I mean newborns with a runny nose, or newborns who need their formula switched.
I spent a lot of time in the hospital with Youngest when he was tiny - it was hard for me to not turn around and tell them that there are hundreds of newborns nearby whose parents are living through terrible trials.
And I don't mean to underestimate the impact of a newborn with a cold or a feeding issue - really.
I'm just a bitch.
And I don't even think that it's that I'm so far removed from life with a newborn that I can't tolerate hearing about it - because, looking back, even when I had newborns, I didn't sit around with other women and talk about the care and feeding of them.
Yesterday I had my iPod in place when they arrived.
I'm really into this song, by The Killers -
When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son
If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand
Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no
Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Over and in, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on
They were sawing away at pipes in the bathroom and the sound of it was excruciating.
The coffee shop is nice (it's not *$ - which is yummy but filthy) and I can trade banter with the owner or listen to my iPod.
Sadly, I realized that, once again, I was there during the meeting of the mother's group.
Last week I sat just in front of them while they told stories of trial and terror with sick newborns.
I don't mean newborns in the NICU, I mean newborns with a runny nose, or newborns who need their formula switched.
I spent a lot of time in the hospital with Youngest when he was tiny - it was hard for me to not turn around and tell them that there are hundreds of newborns nearby whose parents are living through terrible trials.
And I don't mean to underestimate the impact of a newborn with a cold or a feeding issue - really.
I'm just a bitch.
And I don't even think that it's that I'm so far removed from life with a newborn that I can't tolerate hearing about it - because, looking back, even when I had newborns, I didn't sit around with other women and talk about the care and feeding of them.
Yesterday I had my iPod in place when they arrived.
I'm really into this song, by The Killers -
When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son
If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand
Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no
Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Over and in, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on
Comments
And yes, having spent many weeks with a tiny sick prem in hospital and all the rest ever since, the women who bemoan the runny nose, the fussy eater etc - well I just want to smack them down.
Add me to the list of folks who *love* that song! Daughter has a friend (23 year old boy) whose mom isn't involved in his life--I've become some sort of surrogate. I think of this as his song. Call me a 'project chick' : )
I had a mother's group, but we banned together to get away from the kids. We have 15 minutes of poop and puke talk, and then moved on to grown-up topics. You gotta have limits.
Thanks for reminding me how blessed I am with healthy kids. I'll try to be less whiny about the small stuff.
You're not a bitch, just truthful.
Well, you should have, and it would have done them a world of good.
On the other hand, I have much less sympathy for mothers of middle school-aged children who have yet to progress beyond this stage!