The Wrong Side Of The Bed.

Yesterday I looked at T and said, with no trace of irony at the time, "As long as you don't tease, torment, or otherwise cajole me, today has the potential to be a very good day."

It was still morning, and I knew that, mentally, I was in a place to have a good day. I then asked him if he thought it was at all weird that I could wake up and know right away if I was going to be unable to have a "good" day that day. He shook his head and said, with his trademark shrug "there's an expression for that 'woke up on the wrong side of the bed' - it's totally normal."

That's reassuring -- in a bizarro kind of way. Today I feel pretty numb. I'm finding it difficult to figure out what I should be doing, or what I want to be doing.

I'm a very single-minded person -- I tend to go into tunnel vision when I'm working on something. If I start a painting, pick up a book, or turn on a movie I will get absorbed in it to the exclusion of all else. I don't hear people when they talk to me, I don't see things happening around me. Basically, any senses unnecessary to the task at hand get filtered out in my brain.

When I was working in an office, this was actually an asset, as I could crank out a very intensive project in record time and with no mistakes. Now that I'm a mother, I find that I am so far unable to focus on the role of motherhood and homemaker with that intensity. I am also afraid to focus on anything else because, as a mom, you CAN'T filter out your children and their needs for any period of time. They have to eat. They need diapers changed. They need love, affection, attention. You can't ignore them, it's not fair to them.

Even so, I always feel like there's something else I should be doing. I have a burning need to express myself in some way, to have an intellectual goal of some kind that I'm working towards with the oversight of a boss, a professor, an Auditor of some kind.

You would think 2 gorgeous sons would proivide a total sense of fulfillment. It's not that I don't adore motherhood, because I do. I love going out with the boys and seeing strangers smile at their incredible cuteness. I cherish every "first", and my heart melts at each indication of proof that they love me in return. I enjoy washing dirty faces, and I don't even hate changing diapers.

So what is it that is lacking? Is it something innate within myself? Or is it okay for me to feel like I need something more? Am I a terrible mother because there are days when I think "I'd really like to go back to a regular job now?" or that I'd like to go back to school, and waiting until my kids are all in school themselves seems entirely too far off and in the distance?

Is this why I ate a gallon of rice pudding last night?