[I wrote this post late at night, with the TV on pause and no plans to post it online. But, then a week or so passed and I re-read it and I thought maybe it'd be a good something to post online in case there are other mothers who can relate with how I was (and often still am) feeling]
I don’t know if it’s motherhood or maybe just this awkward stage of life. Ahhhh… just writing that gave me an epiphany. Maybe this is what mid-life crises feel like. But I’m only 34. Isn’t that a tad too young? Maybe not. I’m not pursuing an education or focusing on what I want to do for work. I’m not focused on starting a family. Instead, I’m in this really beautiful place where everything I ever wanted – him and her and her and this house that is so filled with love – is right here in my arms.
Yet, I feel unsettled. I want to do everything and I want to do it now. I want to be a hands on, full-time mother and homemaker. But I also want to escape to write and create art. I want to create photographs and learn how to make things with my hands. I want to meet new people and do things that push me out of my comfort zone. But I also want to just be with them, nestled into the middle of their every waking and non-waking move. I want to start new projects, but I don’t want to add responsibilities onto my plate. I want to be away, exploring and learning who I really am in this new season of life. And I want to be their mother and never drive away without them again.
It’s a constant wrestling of the minds that all happens in my one mind.
So tonight I’m sitting here editing photos from last summer while being annoyed I’ve gotten this far behind and instagramming a pic to sell my class (please people, sign up!) while fearing my teaching online is coming to an end and Lola starts crying again. So, I run upstairs and I pick her weary body up and she asks for water so I go to get her some and upon returning I tell her that I’m going to go get her some medicine and I’ll be right back. I returned less than two-minutes later and had to wake her up to give it to her. I laid her back down, propped her up with a second pillow, put a bear on either side of her face and as I was walking out I heard her squeak something out so I stopped to listen. She cleared her throat and said through her terribly adorable raspy voice, “thank you, mommy.”
And, it hit me like a ton of bricks. How is it humanly possible to be experiencing what I’ve just now possibly labeled as a mid-life crises or worse a lack of contentment for this insanely beautiful life I’ve been given?! I mean it’s all just ludicrous.
In a perfect (or at least rational) world my brain would register what happened to my heart when she spoke those three words and peace and contentment would set-up permanent housing in my brain. But, I won’t be fooled into believing that is going to happen. But, I also won’t be a fool by missing the way my heart feels tonight. Wrestles and then suddenly paralyzed by the notion that this…. this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
Scribbled calendars and mounds of unedited photos, personal projects left undone and 15 pounds wished to lose, bucket lists and what ifs and all the rest. Simply pushed to the side and nestled under the “left undone, but that’s okay because if ever this category is empty you’re headed straight for complacency.”
And not forever, I know this, but for tonight I write knowing that I am theirs and they are mine and at the end of the day that’s what matters today.