you can't always get what you want...

I was sitting on my deck yesterday, painting my nails, giving myself a pedicure, generally doing nothing whatsoever but relaxing, and enjoying myself completely -- until I heard the adorable two-year old across the street laugh out loud while playing in the front yard. It snapped me out of my relaxation and started me thinking.

I can remember when we moved into our neighborhood and had our first "congregate with the neighbors" event, Labor Day weekend of 2002. At that point G hadn't agreed to have kids yet, so hearing D & D -- yes, they had the same first initials, but no, they didn't give their son a "D" name, thank God -- talk about how much they wanted kids seemed like a sharp kick to the abdomen. As I'd gotten used to doing by that point, I smiled and changed the subject.

I can also remember running into D & D while getting the mail a few months after the first miscarriage. They had their almost-one-year-old with them and said "you need to have a baby so B has a playmate." I told them what had happened (probably more than they wanted to hear, but oh well) and the husband said something about not getting discouraged and that he knew a lot of people who had one but went on to have perfectly healthy kids. I think I smiled again, although possibly more forced at that point, and instead of changing the subject, excused myself to go back inside.

After the second miscarriage, I avoided going outside except when necessary, except to go to and from work. G took responsibility for telling our neighbors what had happened if the situation presented itself, such as when they asked why they never saw me.

So flash forward to yesterday, and my sudden and abrupt change of thought: how the grass is always greener. That evening I was going out with my friend H, who is almost 39 and single, to provide a distraction for the fact that her most recent ex-boyfriend, nine years or so younger than her, was getting married. I know that to H, my grass looks pretty green; I have a husband, something she wants desperately but has been surprisingly unable to find thus far. And so it is for me with D across the street and her toddler. I wonder whether there is anyone that D envies; or whether perhaps in some way, she may have looked over to see me relaxing on my deck without a care in the world (so it may have appeared) and thought "I wish I had time to do that."

How green is my grass to others? Why doesn't it appear greener for me?

There's no good answer, really; many a person has thought "I will be happy once I [insert option]" knowing full well that the reality is that their grass will merely change hue until they see the next lawn that they envy.

Making an analogy about the type of fertilizer you feed your lawn/self seems both amusing and sarcastic at the same time, so I will pass on that one. I don't have a green thumb, anyway.