I went to write what I thought were new thoughts rolling around in my mind and instead decided to read back over old posts here. I haven’t written often so I was able to skim read the last two years fairly quickly. It nearly made me cry that what I was feeling and expressing that long ago is basically the same place I’m at now. No closer to an answer than I was then and if anything, feeling like I have less time to think about it.
I’ve been reflecting recently on the push for women to do more and be more. Facebook is full of “you’ve got this, mama,” and “do what it takes to make things happen.”
I want more income but don’t want to run a business. It adds so much stress to our lives when I’m pushing hard at something like I did with Usborne last year.
I want more time to pursue creativity but I don’t want to farm my kids out to do it.
I want to have a more orderly house but I don’t want to spend every moment cleaning or organizing.
I’m just as stuck as I was years ago and I don’t know how to get out of it. I tell Mike this stuff and he doesn’t have any response. I suppose this is one of those times when I honestly wish he was the kind of man who wants to fix things. I think he is just as stuck as I am but isn’t bothered by it.
There are areas I can let go of. I am trying to work myself into a place where I’m okay with things being the way they are at home as long as everyone is functioning all right. If no one is bothered by the schedule we keep with laundry, meals, etc. than there is no reason to change it. It may mean that sometimes it looks different here than in other homes but if my kids and my husband are okay with it, does that matter?
I am making another effort to lose weight. I’ve lost thirty pounds since the middle of September, which is a success at least in losing the weight that I gained during my last pregnancy. I honestly would be fine staying where I’m at, in terms of comfort with myself and it being a relatively easy weight to maintain but I know that when I get pregnant again, I am already going to be in multiple different high-risk categories. My weight is still at a place where, based on BMI, I will be red-flagged as overweight in addition to all the other red flags that will exist because of my history. I wish it didn’t matter but it does. So I am forced to carry on and try to lose as much as I can before another pregnancy, even though it is time consuming and tiring to think about it.
This is all very uncomfortable. I would love to say that I’m moving forward and ready to jump into whatever it is I’m called to but I’m in the same place, feeling like I’m failing at the obvious calling – motherhood – and stagnant in every other area.
I told Mike last night in the middle of another monologue that I wish I had the answers to all of these questions. He quoted Hitchhiker’s Guide and said, “42.” I don’t think he knows how much it hurts when quoting a movie is the most he can give me. I know he’s not supposed to have all the answers but he’s the only one I am completely honest and open with. I feel like I’ve asked God and only hear silence. And friends have advice for what works in their lives but most is not applicable to mine. I’m lost, stuck and confused and it sucks.