I think I'm having a mom-life crisis

Before I became a full-time mom, I worked for a major retailer in the corporate office.  I worked there for 13 years.  It was my first "real" job.  My only "real" job.  You know, the kind where you work a consistent 40 hour week, get benefits, an office--or in my case, a cubicle, and have a steady pay check.  Well, the last few years there were not good.  My coworkers--girls I consider to be good friends--and I were victims of very poor management.  While  I can't speak for all of those girls, I feel pretty confident they'd agree with me that our professional lives were a joke.  I was miserable, depressed, and I allowed that place and the situation turn me into a bitter young woman whose outlook on life and people was cynical to say the least.

After the twins came along, the stress of trying to balance the care of three little ones under the age of 3 and that life-sucking job was too much and I quit.  In February of next year it will be two years since I said good-bye to the working world and hello to full-time motherhood.

Today I heard from one of my dearest friends that still works for that company.  There have been many changes in the department where I worked since I left and my friend has faced them all with tenacity and patience.  Last week she finally received a much-deserved and long overdue promotion.  I truly could not be happier for her.  I know firsthand all the junk and the mess and the frustrations she's dealt with up to this point and I admire her perseverance.

But her good news has left me wondering, what am I doing?  Seriously, WHAT AM I DOING?  I think about her and I envy the fact that she still has this piece of her life that's just for her.  This piece is hers to build on, shape, change, whatever she wants.  When you're a stay-at-home mom, nothing is just yours.  You share and you sacrifice everything--your time, your privacy, your looks, your relationships, your sanity, your confidence.  In essence, it can also be a life-sucking job.  And somehow I feel like I'm being left behind.

I don't mean to complain.  This was my choice.  But I feel like I'm at another crossroads in my life.  What am I doing?  I know working in a corporate setting isn't for me.  And I know I need more to my life than just being a mom.  And after the morning I had with the twins, I'm not so sure I'm very good at being "mom" anyway.

Sometimes I overwhelm myself thinking about all the various things I COULD do.  My mind gets so clouded with different ideas it's like trying to look for the bottom of a muddy puddle--impossible to see for all the dirt and matter floating around.  It's maddening and in the meantime, my wheels are spinning as I change diapers, wash dirty hands, kiss boo-boos, play referee, chauffeur, maid, chef.  Oh yeah, and playing wife is somewhere in there, too.  And so while life seems to be going on around me in fast-forward, I never. go. anywhere.

Then the self-doubt creeps in and I wonder if I'm cut out for anything other than the multitasking I do to make others' lives a little easier.  But I feel like there's got to be something for me.  I don't think God would have given me the fire in my belly to find it if there wasn't.  It's just that the search is so frustrating.  It's hard to believe that at almost 38 years old, I'm still struggling to figure out who I am.  GRRRR!

But in the midst of my mom-life crisis, I'm just going to continue to pray that whatever "it" is for me will be revealed and that I won't be too clueless or busy to realize it.

Lessons From Breakfast

The twins are really pretty good eaters meaning they usually eat most things that are put in front of them.  Or perhaps they've just trained me so well now that I've learned to offer only the things that they like.  It's probably the latter, those sneaky kids!  :)  But either way, most meals are usually eaten without the "picky kid" drama that we still deal with from Olivia.

One morning I was feeding the kids breakfast and I peeled a banana for them.  I cut it in half for them to share.  I put one half on Colin's tray which he immediately grabbed and stuffed in his mouth.  But when I tried to give the other half to Sofia, she resisted.  I looked at her, raised my eyebrows and said, "No?"  The only response I got was a super-angry frown complete with pouty bottom lip.  That's not like her.  She usually gobbles up bananas.  

"Okay, she doesn't want it.  She must be full now", I thought.  So I put the other half on her brother's tray thinking he'd gladly finish it off.  As soon as I did that, Sofia looked at me, obviously offended, pointed at it and said "I want 'nana!!!"  

Sorry, sweet girl!  I must have misunderstood that bottom lip!  So I tried to hand her the same peeled banana half I had offered before.  Again, I got the angry face but this time she also shook her head emphatically to tell me NO!  And she pointed to the bunch of bananas on the counter and cried out, her voice like a screechy grackle bird, "I want 'nana!"  

Finally I got it!  She didn't want a peeled banana half.  She wanted HER OWN banana, partially peeled, that she could hold herself and eat like a "big girl".  Frustrated, I said to her, "Ugh, Sofia!  Why isn't THIS banana good enough for you?  It's the SAME THING!"  

But it wasn't what she thought she wanted.  And it made me think of  how many times in my life I have done the same thing with God.  He offers me a blessing, but it's not exactly what I want--or THINK I want--and I dig my heels in and tell Him it's not good enough.  I want it the way I want it or I don't want it at all.  I can think back on several times in my life where I did this.  Sometimes I didn't realize I was doing it.  Sometimes I just ignored the blessing or misinterpreted it.  Other times I was just oblivious.  But there were several instances where I fought Him tooth and nail to force things to be the way I wanted them to be.  His plan was not good enough.  And because I refused to see things His way or even entertain the thought that He may be right and I might be wrong, I paid a huge emotional price for it.  But unlike the frustrated parent that I know I can be when my kids are obstinate, God's patience and faithfulness was constant.  He gently nudged me along helping me find my way and held my hand as I stumbled down a path that I was trying to forge for myself.  He still helps me make good of my life today despite all the poor choices I've made along the way.  

Going forward, I know that I'll continue to mess up and make mistakes as I go through life.  But going forward I plan to be on the lookout for God's blessings and receive them ALL with an open heart and open mind.  

Olivia, my tiny dancer

Miss Olivia started ballet/tap combo class a couple of weeks ago. This is her second year at the same studio. Her teachers tell me she's an excellent student--always listening and always tries her best!

Olivia and her teacher, Ms. Arrica

Ready for class

Butterfly day

I hope I can eventually figure out how to post video clips on here because I have some cute ones of her doing some ballet and tap combinations and practicing her leaps.

I really hope Olivia grows to love dance as much as I did (and still do).  I didn't get involved in dance until I was 15 years old--a geriatric in terms of dancing.  So I really only learned the basics and never advanced any further.  And my passion for it waaaay exceeded my abilities.  I knew it, too.  I danced with girls that were light years ahead of me in terms of technique.  But I still danced because I loved it so much.  My dream still to this day is to be a dancer/performer on Broadway.  But that ship sailed many, many, MANY moons ago, not that I ever had a real shot at it in the first place.  

Now my dream is modified.  I would love to see Olivia become the dancer I never could be.  I'm so glad we're able to put her in lessons now when she's still a child.  I hope that her teachers can encourage her, help her develop her talent and foster in her that love of dance that still lives in my heart.  But as much as I'd like to see her fulfill my dream (and yes, I know it's MY dream), I know my job as a parent is to help her discover her own dreams and realize them.  And that's exactly what I intend to do.  God has a purpose for her in this world--one that is unique to her.  And my ULTIMATE dream for her is that through God, she discovers what that purpose is and she lives for it, breathes it and owns it every day of her life.  What a joy that will be!  And if it just happens to be dance, then even better!  :)

Conflicted

I just realized today that my 20 year HS reunion is in 9 months.  And I'm really having trouble making sense of how I feel about this.  I find it hard not to immediately think of the standard cliches dealing with aging and the passing of time.  I really hate to go there in my writing but I really can't think of any other way to articulate how I feel.  In some ways, 20 years has truly flown by.  Some of my memories from high school are so vivid, it's as if they happened yesterday and while I'm still young at heart, I have to remind myself that I'm not as young as I think (or feel) I am anymore.  But in other ways, so much has happened to me in these 20 years that thinking about it all overwhelms me and makes me tired.  Like I've done a lifetime's-worth of living in 20 years.  And I can't decide if being 20 years older is a good thing or not.  I mean, it's certainly better than the alternative, but aren't we all supposed to want to be 'forever young' as the song suggests?

So does this mean I'm on the brink of a mid-life crisis?  I don't know.  Father Time is messing with me and surely he's getting a chuckle out of it at my expense.

All I really know is that I'm conflicted.  Conflicted not only about how I feel about being out of high school for 20 years, but also about what I've done with that time I was given.  What have I accomplished?  Has it really meant anything to me and to others?  If I died tomorrow, what would people say about me and my life?  I feel like I've done okay for myself but according to whom?  What standards do I use to evaluate these things?  I think what stands out the most as I reflect on this is that practically every decision I have ever made in my life has been based on the reliance of my own "wisdom".  I hardly ever went to God in prayer about anything.  I never prayed about what college I should attend, what major I should choose, if I should go to graduate school or not, and for 13 long years, I didn't pray about the awful, bitter feelings I had about the one and only real job I ever had.  I never sought His guidance and I think that's pretty significant (and not in a good way).  I've just been kind of muddling through life living off the fruits of dumb luck which incidentally aren't that great.  This is not how I want to live the next 20 years of my life.  I want more.  I want authentic purpose--the kind that I believe only God can help me find--so that perhaps I can go to my 40 year reunion with amazing stories to share!

Hide 'n' Go Seek and Panic Attacks

If I didn't realize it before, I do now.  Colin is my dare devil.  My adventure seeker.  My brave-to-a-fault child who isn't going to look before he leaps.  People keep telling me that's because he's a boy and all boys are like that.  Not sure I completely buy into that gender stereotype but neither of his sisters is like this so maybe those people are on to something.  He's always been a climber and a jumper.  One that naturally gravitates towards playing with knives and scissors (but thankfully I've learned to keep those things way out of his reach).  He was the first to climb the stairs and also the first to fall down them.  I imagine he'd be all for skydiving if he even knew what that was.  This boy is fearless....completely the OPPOSITE of his mama!  I don't like adventure--well the kind that could be life threatening, that is.  I hate roller coasters.  Not a huge fan of flying.  Boats make me nervous.  And for as long as I can remember, I have been the type to look before I leap.  And I mean a SERIOUS looker.  Oftentimes I look for so long and so hard that I forget why I'm even looking in the first place!  So for me, having a child like Colin is a challenge to say the least--mostly because I don't get those adventurous-types.

As I type this, I'm reminded of a quote from the Steve Martin remake of the 1950 classic film Father of the Bride (which incidentally is NOT as good as the original Spencer Tracy version.  But I digress).  This pretty much sums me up as a parent, too:

"I've always been a concerned parent.  I'm big on car seats, seat belts, bed times, curfews, calling when you get somewhere, never running with a sharp object."

That's totally me, y'all.  Maybe to a fault.  Given this personality flaw...er...trait, I'm always watching over my kids like a hawk.  But today I guess I wasn't watching close enough.  After church, a big group of us (us being other parents with young kids) stands around in the church's gym to chit chat and let the kids play.  Today was no different except that today in the few seconds we weren't watching, Colin disappeared.  I wasn't concerned as I began the search for him because I figured he had just ducked into one of the gym's classrooms.  But my initial search came up empty.  I got Vincent involved.  I ran upstairs while he searched downstairs.  No Colin.  Other parents began to see the concern on my face and they joined in the search.  I checked parking lots.  Nothing.  Panic didn't really set in until I saw the look of concern on Vincent's face.  He's the calm one in this relationship--the one that helps keep my neuroses in check.  When Vincent's scared, I know it's time to hit the panic button.  And hit it I did.  I began to imagine all the awful things that could have happened to my boy.  I don't even want to go there again by writing them down.  But I'm sure any other parent reading this knows the places my brain was going.  Not fun.  Finally I as I was headed to the playground thinking maybe he went there for some fun, I hear someone say "tell mom we found him".  RELIEF!!  I walk out the doors of the gym to see one of the nursery workers walking him back.  He was happy as a clam.  He had walked all the way from our church's gym back to the building where the nursery is.  That's a long way--like a mile in a two year old's world.  But he got it in his mind that he wanted to go back there and he did.  And took about 5 years off my life in the process.  It took me a while to come down off that awful, fear-generated adrenaline rush.  I had a headache and a stomach ache.

I can't help feeling like I had a "failed mom" moment today.  I keep playing the 'what if' game.  All I can say is thank God that He was watching over Colin.  Thank you, God, that while I was having a stupid, very human moment, You were keeping my boy safe.  Sometimes I still wonder why You made me the mother of anyone--especially after days like today.  But I know You gave me these little blessings for a reason.  I believe You thought that I'd be just the right the mother for these three.  Perhaps Colin and I can learn something from one another.  Maybe Colin can teach his mom a thing or two about being a little more adventurous.  And I think I will teach him how to dial 911!