Cellophane, Mrs. Cellophane

“…Should have been my name, Mrs. Cellophane. ‘Cause you can look right through me, walk right by me and never know I’m there…” Did you catch it? That was a Chicago reference (and I might be off a little on the exact wording of the lyrics, I know, get surprised because I pride myself in knowing the RIGHT lyrics).


Well, lately this is how I feel. For a while I’ve felt “uninteresting” at best. I mean, I don’t have good work stories…heck, most people don’t even understand what I do. But at least when I was “at home” I had friends who I could hang with and feel like me and be me…even if “me” isn’t as fun as I used to be.

It’s just seemed worse since we’ve been in Florida. I’ve become even more invisible. I mean, I still communicate with people at work. They don’t seem to have forgotten about me. But my LIFE is not work. I do NOT want my LIFE to be work. So it’s hard, being here, alone, to have a “life” that’s mine. Every time I hear from my parents it’s “How’s my grandson” or “How’s school going for Josh”. It’s like I don’t exist. I’m sure no one even knows what to ask about me…and that’s fine…except, I’m still here. Living, breathing, working hard, taking care of my family, cooking every night, making lists of “to-do’s”, making sure of this and that, doing the budget, planning, thinking, dreaming…still here, didn’t vanish.

I really don’t want to make this a long pity party or anything or toot my own horn-BUT COME ON! Does no one (except Josh, he says he realizes) realize this is the HARDEST ON ME?! All the grandparents are sad about is that they can’t see their grandson whenever they want (thank God, I actually am enjoying having my family to myself). All my friends miss me…but they have other friends and coworkers they see. I’M HERE ALL BY MYSELF. Josh at least has one friend he came here with and he’s in school and meeting people everyday. I carried and birthed the baby…I moved away from my friends and family to sit at home and work by myself (which I’m grateful for, don’t get me wrong)…but NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE ABOUT ME. Now, I’m using a lot of “no one” and “everyone” and all that…my friends to tell me that they miss me and I know they understand it must be hard. But you can’t know it until you’re doing it what you really will end up feeling like.

I could say more…and I would…but well, I’m in a better place today and don’t really feel like dredging it back up. All this to say…mommy’s are pretty awesome people. You shouldn’t forget us just because are kids or husbands seem more interesting…makes me feel uninteresting, unintelligent and dull. I used to be fun. At least I thought I was. (That being said, there’s nothing more fun than talking about my baby. I sound mixed up don’t I? Ah well, one of these days, maybe I’ll be interesting in and of myself again.)