Jealousy: that green bastard; revisited

You know, I wouldn’t consider myself a really envious person. Sure I wish I had the m$ney that other people have, mostly just because I hate worrying every week, living paycheck to paycheck, wondering if we’re going to be able to pay our bills, or have to stave off the vultures for another week. I will admit that often I find I am envious of the women I know who can buy fashionable clothes on a whim, who can shower their children with gifts, and even afford to go out to lunch every day. I know they say that rich people aren’t any happier than us living at the poverty lizine, but you know what? I’m not sure I buy it. Hell I’d take being a D-list celebrity any day over a D-list blogger; I don’t get paid for this passion. But. (JUST KIDDING I LOVE YOU GUYS!)

Anyway. I digress:
I no longer look at stick figure-esque girls who CLEARLY need to eat a sandwich and think, damn, I wish I looked like them. I try hard not to compare myself.
Because really, it doesn’t matter.
I often think to myself that I need to carry a bunch of business cards for my old treatment center, and when I see a girl so thin she’s runs the risk of being, like, DOUBLE TUBED, (or even triple tubed if she had a freak third nostril or something) I fantasize about walking up to her, handing her the card for the treatment center, and saying, so earnestly, so cliché like, There is a place for hope and healing! (Or hell and heaving, depending on if you’re absolutelyabhorring the whole treatment process, cackle cackle.) But I don’t do that. Their life is their life and I sincerely hope for them that one day they can get out of their misery, see what they’re missing out on, and embrace life and embrace change.

But back to envy. I wrote this post just over two years ago, and I want you to go read it. Once you done that, come back to meeee and finish this post, cuz you’ll have a better understanding and less of a WTF’ness factor if you read it.

Okay. All read?

I am still jealous of perfect moms. I covet their ability to get their child to eat nasty sweet potatoes and beets, and hell, even carrots. Or chicken. And chicken is good – it tastes like everything, right? I cannot get Cade to eat more than chocolate, Reese’s Puffs, crackers, and pancakes. I give him Boost nightly to supplement for all that he misses out during the day time. Is this humiliating for me to admit? YES. Because I read many blogs of women with young children who feed their kids healthy and balanced meals, all while canning peaches and brainstorming on how to end world hunger, while my kid is sustaining his life mostly off of preservatives while Mommy blogs and nurtures her growing obsession for the Animal Planet.

and

You know what hurts even more? I’ve read so many blogs lately where I find out that the women are pregnant. And please don’t get me wrong; I am so happy for you. But while that happiness wells inside me; jealousy, that green bastard, rears its fat bulbous greedy head and brings tears to my eyes because I think, IwishIwasyouIwishIwasyouIwishIwasyou…Godwhycouldn’tIcarryKendalltofullterm,whatiswrongwithmewhatdidIdo?

So please. If I do not comment on your blog congratulating you, it isn’t because I am not happy for you. It’s simply because at that at that moment, I am coveting what you have. And I am hurting because I am missing what I no longer have. And then I am bereft of words.

So, I’m not perfect. (CLEARLY) My child has a goopy face and sometimes he still pees his Thomas the Train underwear or colors my bathroom mirror with magic markers. He is not on a regular sleep schedule because he is the most stubborn child on this earth and needs less sleep than a meth head. I worry about my parenting skills. But at the end of the day, you know what? Cade is happy. He knows he is loved. Every day we reaffirm our BEST friendship, and then smooch on it to seal the deal.

So there are a lot of things I would change. I kind of think that people who say they have no regrets are idiots.

Liars.

Because hindsight is 20/20, and who wouldn’t go back and change the mistakes that they’ve made? Yes you learn from them, but they can also hurt and embarrass you like hell. And I still regret some of my decisions. I don’t know that I’ll ever be grateful for them. It’s too cliché and too easy for me to go down that path. Forgiving myself has always been a rough nasty little bugger for me.

But you know what I wouldn’t change? Cade coming up to me last night, hugging me, saying I was his best friend, then saying “Mommy give me a smooch cuz those are like kisses but even BETTER!”

The kid might not get his lima beans, but he gets his love.

So it’s time I work on stop being green with jealousy, tell that monster to peace out, and start glowing with happiness. For the changes I’m making and for the blessings I do have.

Oh and PSers don’t forget to watch the vid I posted last night! It’s almost as good as the superbowl when Janet Jackson and J Timb performed, only there are no wardrobe malfunctions!