In my darker hour

When I was a little girl, all I wanted, all I yearned for was a home filled with family. I idolized this idea, filled it with every happy little thought my real life did not have and inhabited that imagined space like it could be real with the right set of circumstances- ie., the right man would somehow make all that wasn't right in me a whole, magically. Poof. Brady Bunch optional.
And ever since the day I began building that dream, reality has been trying to give me less and less subtle clues attempting to abuse me of my foolishness.
But no one could tell me. And now here I am, three kids, a house we can't really afford (a whole cliche) and a life that doesn't wrap up neatly. And I am asking myself why, why, why this doesn't feel good all the time?
Is this just me? Am I alone on a Friday, drinking cheap white wine with a straw watching Eat Pray Love. Meanwhile my adorable husband is bathing our three girls and their conversation filters in between the witty dialogue.
Liz Gilbert got to check out but I am her friend at the gate saying "I wish I could go". Is it our generation that cannot be happy with what we have? Cannot just say "thank you or what I have"?
I am grateful. My oldest two are naked Greco Roman wrestling and giggling up a storm. My husband is holding our baby chasing them around and I am blogging and wishing for travel. I am unfair and mean. I need to get off my ass and jump into the screaming, crying fray out there. And bake cupcakes, and love what I have. Actively. And maybe have some real food. Damn this movie! :)
Anyway my point, my goddamn a-ha moment is that the wish is not 2D, it is beyond that, maybe even 4D. It is multilayered. It has hidden dirt and tears and anger and joy and sadness and dissolution and everything I cannot imagine. It ain't a harlequin novel, that's for sure. It is reality. Wake up!