Okay, all right, so then...
Remember, I am really not blogging, and this site was just an experiment, actually for my mom and for J to see if they liked blogger.com for THEIR purposes...not mine. But here I am, writing an "entry". It is almost dark, but because it is spring I can hear the birds singing outside. None-the-less, here are my thoughts...
Tonight I am not feeling much like working on my paper, my internship, or my job. I am pacing around in a funk, instead.
Isn't it hard not to be in control of your own perfect world? In my perfect world, my parents, my children, and my dearest friends all live within pajama distance. You know, that distance wherein you can grab your coffee and your breakfast and are out the door in an instance to show up at THEIR door and slouch at their kitchen table. OR if it is evening, you can grab your cocktails and crackers and curl up in their recliners, but you are STILL in your pajamas.
I used to have that relationship with my neighbor before we both moved to new neighborhoods. She would sneak down to my house, or I up to hers, when no cars were going by to see the pajamas, and we would start our days around the table with coffee and/or tea, before the sun made it's way over the hill that blocked our view of the wide world. Funny, we work in the same building now, and rarely can exchange more than smile across the hours of a school-darn-day.
J and I had just one such evening pj visit recently. She brought all sorts of cocktails and came in her slippers to curl up in the recliner at my house and we solved the world's problems one glass at a time. It was grand. Not as productive and healthy as our walks/runs where we not only solve the world's problems, but dream up new ones. Anyway, it worked for me.
I wish we could do that every night, after our run. Only I would expect my daughter, my mother and my daughter-in-condo to join us. I would wait for my son to show up half way through the evening and sit cross-legged on the floor with my dog while my dad arrived with his newspaper in hand and a story or two. My husband would entertain us all with his caustic humor, warm up my bed and curl around me for the rest of the night.
That's my perfect evening.
Not that I mean to limit the lives of any of the players. Everyone should go about sailing the panama canal, climbing volcanos, receiving job offers, training for 1/2 marathons, making congressional visits, accumulating degrees, awarding new contracts, building new international relations, buying cars and houses and organic coffees.
But why can't they end up in my den, or the livingroom, or cross-legged on the kitchen floor at the end of the day...or the week...even the month???
It is spring...I should not be pouting at all.
So Sadie and I will go watch another netflix and call it a night. My dreams will have to replace the pajama chats tonight.
Did I mention it rained torrents all day?
OK, now I have to write a new Angelfire entry, and I wanted to veg on the couch! It's always been my "If I ran the zoo," too, to be in pajama distance of my daughter, and then my grandchildren.
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother and my mother have been writing on these boards for sometime. I’ve only recently been invited into the mix, just in time for my grandmother’s Pajama post; and what a post it was. (I read them backwards, grandma’s post before mom’s, even though they were written the other way around) It got me thinking of my own relationships. My circle of influential people has come up in several recent ruminations, as my recent move to Chile has more clearly defined the list.
ReplyDeleteBack to the Pajama topic…
I am lucky enough to have found my ‘Penny,’ her name is Rhea. Rhea and I were in many overlapping circles of friends for 3 years of college but never really formed a bond until senior year when we shared an apartment with 4 other girls (Oh that is full of stories, but I will save that for another day).
In that house we learned to do all of the cooking and cleaning things without getting in each-others’ way, much like grandma mentioned in her post. And there were many talks with laughter and tears, a few couch-potato weekends with lots of junk food, many Grey’s Anatomy viewings and a few random dance-parties as well, all in pajamas.
After college we both moved for jobs but ended up only about 1.5hrs apart. As I was in a small town with little weekend entertainment, most weekends I packed up my overnight bag and left directly from work to go spend the weekend with Rhea. No need to stress about what to bring, we’d make do with whatever I had and whatever she had. Now I have moved to Chile and it is a 10 hour flight rather than a 1.5 hour drive in order to visit…
Grandma wrote in an earlier post about her personal “circle of life.” What she didn’t mention is that working with children for so long, then with their parents and now with the elderly, she has become a wonderful conversationalist, or better perhaps better put, storyteller. For me, going from child to teen to adult brought many different topics to conversation between my grandmother and I and she has never ceased to surprise me. Like so many others, I conveniently forgot that she had a life before me! I hope she continues telling me stories…
And I can speak from the other side of my grandma’s comment regarding mother-daughter pajama time. I am a little older now than my mom was when she and my grandmother moved from parent/child to parent/friend/grown-woman-child, yet I have grown to treasure that same bond. When you stop to think about it, it is really the best of both worlds. I get to be a friend when I want, but still reserve the right to act completely childish when I want to, what could be better??
My mom and I used to meet halfway between our respective residences on some Saturday nights. We would take a bottle of wine and spend one night talking in the hotel then head back to our homes. Again, then I moved to Chile and one day meet-ups are no longer an option…
Fortunately the magic of Skype does occasionally provide some pajama-esque conversations, though they are fewer and farther between. Even more fortunately for me, both my mom and Rhea have visited me in the past few months, and for that I consider myself truly lucky.
But I have to say that even the visits are not the same. Too many expectations and the addition of the SOs (my dad, my bf - Pololo - and Rhea’s bf) mean that the mix is different and conversation is not as easy. Pololo is happy to do his own thing while I talk for hours on end, but language barriers and no-bonds between him and the other SOs mean that they do not go off on their own and leave us ladies to talk until our throats go dry.
Such is life, I guess. And I am happy to have these people with whom I can so easily talk for hours. No pretences or pressures, just gabbing. Now if we could only figure out a way for mom’s wish to come true everything would be perfect! We could all go about our respective lives, but regularly end up in pajamas and recliners with bottles of wine…the perfect recipe to solve all of the world’s problems.