Back and Whinier Than Ever!

We should be moving into our new place this weekend. It's totally awesome, and I'm very excited. And, while I've grown attached to my little house, and while it has been a bitch trying to downsize from a four-bedroom house to a two-bedroom townhome, I have to say I can't wait to check out our new area and live in a place built AFTER 1957, for the first time in my adult life.

But, I have been a little down these last few days, and here's why...

When we moved into this house five years ago, I was 22. I was a recent college grad and had just landed a job as a middle school teacher at a local private school. I was feeling pretty damn accomplished. A wife, teacher, and homeowner, all at the infantile age of 22!

But, then I decided I didn't want to teach middle school; I wanted to teach college. So, I quit my job and started grad school and subbed at an elementary school. Then I had a baby and quit working all together, but stayed in school. THEN I decided I don't want to teach at all. I want to be a writer.

Which brings me to now. I have half of a Master's degree, no job, and have made very little progress with my writing career, mostly due to a gross lack of effort on my part.

This path has also led us to needing my mother in law to be a co-applicant for our apartment so we don't have to pay an obscene security deposit. And, I feel like, what happened to me? What happened to being AHEAD of the game? The bright-eyed, ambitious, twenty two year old girl I once knew is now pushing thirty and can't even qualify for an apartment.

It's totally incredible and kinda hot that Chris is doing so well in his career that he can afford to keep us in this ridiculously expensive area with no financial help from me. But, even if we didn't need a cosigner, I'd still feel like a failure.

I know, I know. I'm staying home with my daughter, and that is very, VERY important. I get that, I do. And, don't get me wrong, I am totally having a blast. But, she will grow up, despite my best efforts, and I don't want to be wondering whatever happened to my career, my accomplishments outside of raising this beautiful, little girl.

So, here's my dilemna: I absolutely, no questions asked, need to get off my ass and try harder to make the writing career happen. I need to scour the internet for jobs, submit pitches and articles, and work on the blog. I will do that. But, there's the matter of this MA. I'm a few quarters away from finishing, at which point I would need to write a thesis or take the graduate exam. It would be a lot of work on top of everything, and it would increase my student loan debt exponentially. But, I feel like I really need this degree. It might even come in handy someday. So, when do I go for it? Now, while I still know some people in the program and am still (sort of) in the groove of it? Or, later, when Charlotte could feasibly go to preschool a few days a week and maybe I'm more established in my as yet non-existent writing career?

Ugh. I'm so confused. And I hate that all I've been doing on this blog lately is whining, and now asking for advice. I will try to get back to regularly scheduled programming very soon.

Until then...Angst! Confusion! Ennui!

Heeeeellllppp!

A Teething, Tyrannical, Toddler

When I decided to take a hiatus from school, I had many a grand dream about how I was going to kick my writing career into high gear, start busting my ass (literally) at the gym, and still have lots of time left over for play dates.

Well, all I can say, is reality served me up a nice big can of whoop ass.

I don't know what it is exactly that has prevented me from updating the blog on a more regular basis or why I'm not feverishly writing my book proposal. I have to admit that I'm lazy. That's a fact, one which anyone who knows me will attest to, and that without question, is impeding my progress. But, it's more than that.

It turns out, toddlers are a LOT of work. WHO KNEW? Oh, you did? Well, whatever, smarty pants. I'm not talking to you.

When I began my last quarter of school and work at the tutoring center, I had a 9 month old. She was crawling, but there was only so much she could get into, and she was eating mostly purees. Babies are always a handful, but she was manageable. During those months that Chris and I were equally sharing the baby wrangling duties, a shift was occurring, imperceptible to us at the time.

And so it came to pass that when I resumed primary responsibility for the care and well-being of Charlotte at the end of the quarter, I was greeted not with my sort-of mobile, Gerber-slurping, happy little baby, but a full-on toddler, complete with personality, tantrums, and breakneck mobility.

Don't get me wrong, I am really having more fun than ever before. Her ever-expanding vocabulary is hilarious and awe-inspiring (and maybe some other hyphenated words, too!). And now that she can genuinely show affection with her spontaneous and very pronounced kisses, and now that she can call for me, I am a junkie for her love. What I won't do for just one more stroke of my arm with her tiny hand!

But, holy hell, if it isn't demanding! Every night upon leaving her room at bedtime, I am assaulted by a sinkful of dishes, pots and pans, and a high chair adorned with congealed cheese, globs of yogurt, avocado smear, and the tiniest of broccoli particles. Ah, the simplicity of spooning pureed carrots into her gullet! Then it was as simple as recycling a jar and dabbing her mouth with a washcloth. Now, my kitchen looks as if I've just prepared a Thanksgiving feast. Every. Single. Night.

Then I come into the living room, where the brightly-colored plastic lives. Some of it can be crammed into her toy box, but then there are the cars, the musical table, the bouncing horse, the bouncy ball, all permanent fixtures in the decor. I tidy and arrange as best I can, before preparing my own dinner. Then I pour a glass of wine and spend a little time catching up on the internet. This is a nice, peaceful time. A perfect time to do some of that writing, but I am usually so wiped from all the cooking, feeding, cleaning, playing, driving, etc. that I don't always get around to it.

And then there are days like today. Days where the kid won't nap even though she's tired and falling all over herself. So, I throw a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor, and we watch Sesame Street together. Days where she appears to be cutting a tooth (or forty) and cries inconsolably, periodically throughout the day. Days where she wants to be held only by Mommy (I'm as shocked as you) so she spends hours in the borrowed Ergo. Days where she wants you to read her Llama Llama Red Pajama for the tenth time, but then closes the book and whines right around the time Baby Llama is asking for a drink of water. Days where I am equal parts heartbroken for her and frustrated at her constant unhappiness.

Somehow I managed to compose this rant on a day like this. But, now it would probably behoove me to go to bed. Charlotte's slumber has already proven itself to be unstable, at best, so I should probably collect as many hours of sleep as I can.

Who are You, Really?

In a few, short weeks, I will be a free woman.

Last month, I resumed working at the tutoring center at my school and began attending my most recent grad class. Granted, the class is a lot of work, but you would think a person could handle fifteen hours of work and one, measly class, right?

Wrong.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I am a lazy individual. One of the only things I enjoyed about pregnancy was that I had an excuse to sit on the couch and request that things be brought to me. I will forgo an extra cookie if it means I have to get up and get it myself. I am a master procrastinator, especially when it comes to my school work. And, I hate getting up early for work; I have been known to whine all through a work day about how tired I am. Superwoman, I am not. However, if something in my life needs to be done, I get it done. I might be kicking and screaming the whole way, but I do what I need to do, and I have successfully held down a full-time job and gotten A's in many grad classes at the same time.

So, why am I having such a hard time this quarter? The answer to that question is at home with her daddy, eating animal crackers and pushing all the buttons on the DVD player.

I never thought I would become one of THOSE moms. The ones who can't be separated from their kids for more than a few minutes without totally losing it. And, really, I don't think that I am. I am in the process of trying to convince my mother-in-law to keep Charlotte overnight so Chris and I can drink and stay out late at my mom's St. Patty's day party. I've gone to concerts without her. I like to get out of the house to write. Sure, I always miss her while I'm away. But, it never stops me from going away to do the things I care about.

And there it is. The reason I am so resentful about being out of the house for fifteen hours a week has less to do with the fact that I am away from the baby and more to do with the fact that it isn't worth it. I want my Master's degree, sure. And, I will get it. But now is not the time. Right now I want to write. If I'm going to be away from Charlotte, it had better be for something I am passionate about. So, I'm taking a break from school and concentrating on pursuing a career doing what I love to do. I am very fortunate that I am able to do so at this time.

I've always been a big believer in maintaining an identity that is separate from your identity as a mother. Even though I now realize how much motherhood permeates all the facets of my life, how it has changed me from the inside out, I still believe that it is crucial to not lose sight of who you were before having children. I think we all need to have something we are passionate about, besides our kids. For some people, that thing is their job. And, hey, that's awesome! If you can get paid to do what you love, I say that's a win-win. Unfortunately, some people hate their jobs. Their very necessary jobs. And that, well, to put it eloquently, blows.

And then there's me. Like I said, I am very fortunate that, at the moment, we are able to stay afloat on Chris's income so that I can be a stay-at-home mom. I want to soak up every second of Charlotte. I want to feed her every meal, put her down for every nap, change every diaper...

Ha! Kidding. Can you imagine?

Truthfully, I want to be with her most of the time. I really enjoy the day-to-day responsibilities of taking care of my family. But, as much as I enjoy folding laundry in the company of a good television show, I wouldn't exactly call it fulfilling. And as much as I adore making my baby laugh, I wouldn't call it intellectually stimulating. I, and we all, I would argue, need something else. A creative outlet. Something that's just for us.

I started this blog a few months ago, and since then, I have grown to love writing. I am having fun doing it, and I want to make this my career. I have a book I want to write. I'd like to spruce up this blog and see it take off. I would like to do freelance writing. For the first time in my adult life, I have a career goal that I am legitimately excited about, something I am motivated to work hard to achieve. And that feels really good.

I am a mother first, sure. Charlotte and any future children I may have will be my priority. But as much as I don't want to miss a second of my children's lives, the reality is that I might HAVE to. And that's okay. Mommy guilt is a potent and powerful thing. It whispers lies into your ear, lies about not being good enough, making bad choices, and letting your kids down. Our children need us. No question. And in a way, they might always need us. But, isn't our job to teach them to grow, to be independent, and to ultimately take care of themselves? And, if we haven't been taking care of OURSELVES in the meantime, nourishing OUR dreams and goals, where will we be then? We'll be more in need of our kids than they are of us.

Please understand that I am not knocking being a stay-at-home parent. I'm just saying, make sure you are taking care of yourself. It can be so overwhelming, being a woman today. We are in a constant state of maintaining a very tricky balancing act. My husband told me last night that for him, it is so simple. He goes to work, comes home, helps with the baby, and sleeps (soundly). He told me that he appreciates how much more complex my life is. I take care of all appointments (social and otherwise), I keep the house clean, I do the shopping, I do all the packing and organizing for schlepping the baby, I try to go to the gym, I try to plan meals, and I go to work and school. I constantly have about a million things on my mind, including, now, my career. For more on balancing motherhood and a budding writing career, check out this post by Brooke, of Mommy In Chief. It rang so true for me, as I'm sure it will for any woman who struggles with maintaining more than one title.

No one said this was going to be easy. But, I am having a blast figuring it all out.