Musings of a Midlife Mama and Other Stories

I’m a yes whore.  What is that?  It’s someone who can’t say no. 

I say yes to all sorts of things, yes to obligations and extracurricular activities, to my children, to opportunities, to work associates and partners, to…to…and the list goes on.

I say yes when I mean no.

This propensity to say yes became obvious when Molly was a senior.  “Yes, I’ll drive you to L.A. for your volleyball tournament.”  “Yes, you can have money to go buy clothes.”  “Yes, I’ll call you out of school.”  I could not not say no.  My excuse? It was Molly’s last year of high school.  When would I ever have the chance to do this with or for her ever, ever again?  And while this was true, there is an emotional shift that’s almost physical that forever changes when your child is about to graduate from high school and becomes an adult, I said yes because I wanted to hold on to Molly.  I wanted her to like me enough to stay forever locked in our relationship as my little girl who needed me to take care of her. 

Being a mom is the epitome of being needed, and this doesn’t change whether they’re six like Jack or almost eighteen or twenty one like Kelly and Molly, respectively.  And I like being needed…most of the time.

But I say yes for other reasons.  You give me a compliment, and I’m yours.  I was roped as co-president of a mother-daughter philanthropy organization because a number of the moms came to me and said, “You have been such a great coordinator.  We think you’d be great as a president.” Me? President?  Hell, yes.  Tell me I’m smart, pretty, creative, a good writer and I will stay up all night doing whatever project it is you were greasing me up for in the first place.

I say yes because god forbid I’m bored.  My adult attention deficit disorder makes me easily distracted.  “Oh, what’s that pretty activity over there? That looks so much more interesting than what I’m doing now or what I’m supposed to be doing.”  I’ve been living my life by the motto, “If you want to get a job done, give it to a busy person.”  That’s me, busy and competent.

But lately, I’ve grown resentful, regretful, rundown, rageful and any other “r” words I can think of because of my overcommitment to too many things.  David, my husband, has pointed out that I am a yes whore.  Maybe not in those words but he does question my compulsion to say yes to everything and everybody.  Although he will also say “Funny, not when it comes to me.”  He wants me to start saying n-n-n-no to things.  And I’m trying.

Not long ago, the classroom mom from Jack’s class approached me to be the PTA president.  “You did an amazing job with the holiday party.  You were so organized [clearly she hasn't seen the inside of car] and both the parents and kids enjoyed it.  You’d make a great PTA president.”  Me? President?  I can’t believe I considered it because working with other parents can be um, challenging.  But I did.  She called me smart.  I smiled broadly at her, puffed out my chest and said, “Thank you, but no.” 

This month CrossFit is having qualifiers for their statewide meet, and the owner of the gym where I do CrossFit commented that he thought I’d be great and would easily qualify.  I ran home, okay I drove, but the compliment made me feel like I could run the six miles home.  I told David I would be competing in the CrossFit qualifiers. 

“Michelle, let me guess…he called you strong.”

“Well, maybe…but…”
“And you fell for it?”

“You don’t think I’m strong?  You think I’m too old or–”

“Nice try. You’re deflecting what’s going on here.”

“I know.  I’ll tell him n-n-n-o.”

See, I’m working on it. 

My name is Michelle Zive, and I’m a maybe lady of the night.