This year we finally moved into the perfect home for our family. After years of five people living in a two-bedroom home, we now live in a home that is just the right size for our family. It is marvelous. Sometimes I am still stunned that this is really our home, and that we have this kind of space. Our three boys used to share a bedroom, and all five of us used to share a bathroom. Now we have two bathrooms on the main floor, my oldest has his own room, my little two share a room and have their own playroom, AND my amazing parents have their own living space in the basement. It is truly incredible.
I am also in my third year of my career as a school counselor, and this year I changed jobs; I had an unexpected opportunity to move from a high school to an elementary school position, and I couldn't be happier.
My husband is finishing up his second year of working as an ER nurse. A few months ago he finally moved from night shift to days, and it has been a much-needed change.
Our oldest turned 15, started high school, and has finished his first year of marching band. Our 9 year old changed schools over the summer with the move, and has started third grade in his new school. And our 6 year old started kindergarten this year.
This year I even flew on an airplane for the first time ever! It was something I had always feared, but I ended up loving it. I had the opportunity to travel to Denver-- not just to attend a national school counseling conference, but to co-present at the conference! While I was in Denver, I also had the chance to visit the Rocky Mountain National Park. Suffice it to say, a piece of my heart is there in the Rockies now, and I cannot wait to go back.
Yes, overall, life is good.
And yet...
I have had a persistent feeling that in the midst of all the changes over the past several years, I have lost an important part of myself. Years ago I was a writer, a thinker, a feeler; those were at the core of my identity. When I look at my day-to-day self now, I barely recognize those descriptions.
For most of those years that we lived in our little old house, we were a one-income family. My husband worked; I stayed home with our children. I knew in my heart that was not permanent, because I felt called to pursue a master's degree and begin a career in school counseling. But for nearly a decade, I was a full-time mom. And as busy and stressful as that could be, I regularly had outlets for myself. I loved to read books, almost exclusively non-fiction, about important issues such as faith, social issues, family, and personal development. I wrote almost daily, sometimes in my journal, and sometimes on my blog. Writing kept me going-- I had so many thoughts and emotions that felt important, and I wanted to delve into them and occasionally share them with others.
But now it all feels different.
Maybe it's an introvert problem, or maybe this is simply an issue all working moms deal with at some point. But when I look at my day-to-day life, I realize that I all my mental and emotional energy is spent on a regular basis. On a normal weekday, I am awake sometime between 5:00-5:30 in the morning. I get ready for work, and then I leave the house for my commute (which is just shy of an hour). I arrive to work and work at least 8 hours-- some days I am there longer, depending on what is going on. Then I make the return trip home. When I arrive home, generally sometime between 4:30-5:00, there is still much to do. I exercise for about half an hour, I spend time with my 3 sons and my husband, we have dinner, we clean up, I put the little boys to bed... by the time that is all done, it is almost time for me to go to bed myself. Some days I am the only parent home in the evenings due to my husband's work schedule at the hospital, so all the evening duties fall to me by default.
All those former outlets that I loved so dearly... they take up precious mental and emotional energy that I simply do not have by 8:30 PM. I can't muster up the energy to read anything that requires thought, or to write, or to really even think. Every last shred of my energy is taken up by everything else in my day, and by the time the day ends I am ready to shower and go to sleep so I can get up and do it all again the next day.
Most of the time even weekends don't truly recharge me. On many weekends I am the only parent home for at least one day because of my husband's schedule. And as a very introverted person, a weekend at home with three children just doesn't fully recharge my batteries. As I recently told my husband, it is kind of like plugging in your phone when the battery is at 5%, and taking it off the charger at only about 25%. Then it's Monday, and a new week begins.
Please don't misunderstand me-- I love my job, and I love my family. And yet... there is a part of me that's missing, and I worry that I will lose it for good. I miss reading, and writing, and having the mental and emotional energy to deeply explore my thoughts and feelings. Right now I am just over halfway through my winter break, and I am only just now able to access the energy needed to think through these things and write about them. I am shocked when I look at this blog-- it has been nearly two years since I last posted here. I am even more shocked when I look back at the things I have written; I can't imagine having the time and energy to develop such material now.
Somehow I have to find a way to reclaim this part of myself, even if it's only a little.
I know it's important. Most of the time, my personality stays very surface-level, because I simply don't have the extra energy required to dig deeper. But I don't want to lose this deeper part of myself. It won't look like it did before, of course; I'm not in a place in my life where I am able to commit to reading, writing, and introspection on a daily basis. But I know I have to find a way to work it in somehow, whether on the weekends or during breaks or during conversations with people I love.
One of my Christmas gifts was an Amazon gift card, which I spent on some nice paint markers for rock painting. I am also going to buy a supply of rocks, of course. I thought this might be a nice creative outlet that doesn't require a huge commitment of time and energy.
And maybe I can start reading more frequently, even though it will take me much longer to get through a book than it once did.
Perhaps I will even begin writing again... occasionally. We will see. ;)
Goodbye until next time-- whether it is a week from now or a year from now...
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