Wow have I been preoccupied. You should see my answering machine messages- 24 blinking messages. Don't worry though, I scanned to see if anything was important.
I'm at a crossroads here and something has gotta change soon. My youngest will be in Kindergarten in the fall and it has me realigning my whole perspective on what my role is/should be now.
And I'm torn with thoughts of wondering whether it has been worth it to be out of the work force for ten years so my kids wouldn't be in day care. I'm nervous at the idea of trying to find another job with a serious time lapse in my resume. Who am I and what am I good for? Should I go back to school? Should I stay home because we can afford it? How come I'm really starting to hate my house and want to move?
When I went away to college at 18 I thought I was going to be a poet. I don't remember the last poem I wrote. I don't even know if I like poetry anymore. It seems frivolous when I'm thinking about the load of laundry in the dryer, the weeds in the garden, the stains on the carpet, when I have to pick up kids from school, and when our next dentist appointment will be. Nothing in my life seems poetic anymore. Who wants to read a poem about matching socks together or scrubbing out the sticky stuff from the sink?
I am blessed beyond measure and reason and yet when I think of that hopeful, shiny faced teenager that I was, I wonder how proud I would be of whom I've become.
This is a small part of the inner turmoil that's been going on in there.