Ok, so when I decided (again) in 2011 that it was time to blog (again) I was certain I was going to do it this time. Really do it. It's like the time I was going to lose (insert number of pounds here) by (insert date of event here), or the time I was going to...well, I think we get the point.
Here's the issue. I had been having the mother of all identity crisises (crises?) for like 5 years. I may have mentioned that previously. Anyway, I figured that maybe I'd gotten over it. Turns out that I had not - in fact, it was even worse. So below is a post I wrote in December of 2011. I have gotten past most of the issues I talk about here, but for the sake of posterity, I thought I'd add it to the mix.
I work from home and I don't have a lot of interaction with people over the age of 12. Even then, most of my interaction is with a 20 month old, which can be challenging to say the least because she doesn't actually say many words. Her communication with me involves leading me by the hand to where she'd like me to go, whining, maybe throwing a little tantrum if I don't get it right, while I play an all day game of "20 questions." Which technically, if I added it all up, would be like "498 questions with only the occasional right answer, oh and also it keeps changing." The upside to this is that I am A PRO at asking very simple yes or no questions. Luckily, she is really smart and can let me know (pretty much) what she wants, and very decisively what she doesn't want. We work it out. But other than Piper, I mostly only talk to my mom, Mandy, and Chris, once he gets home from work.
Prior to being a stay at home mom, I had jobs where I talked to a lot of people. I am incredibly social, and I love being around people. I have been told that I'm quick and witty and funny and whatever, and now that I don't really have the opportunity to keep those skills up, well, I feel socially awkward. I'm 35, and for the first time in my life, I get anxious about being in social situations. Will I say the right thing, will I bore everyone with stories about my child, will I will I will I? This is coming from someone who can literally talk to anyone. I strike up conversations with strangers all the time. But somehow, my confidence in group situations like parties or dinners or whatever, or even just hanging out with people I already know, is so low. And then afterwards, I obsess over whether I said something wrong or what if someone just perceived what I said incorrectly and and and. This sucks.
The other major issue I am dealing with is WHO I AM. Am I someone's wife? Yes. Someone's stepmom? Yes. Someone's favorite person in the whole world AND their mom? YES. These are all great things. Really great, and please don't get me wrong, I love being all of those things. But I feel like there are so many things crowding out one other thing - am I still myself? Am I still smart and funny and witty? Am I still creative and a singer and someone who has fun and interesting friends? Am I still a great conversationalist? I'm so wrapped up in being everything to everyone else that I can't find the piece of me that makes me ME. And I know this sounds selfish, but you know what? How is it selfish to want to retain a little of yourself while being everything to everyone else? To me, that sounds healthy, but I have to totally convince myself of that, because what I really feel is guilt over wanting to keep something aside for me.
Therefore, the guilt is making me say the following disclaimer: I KNOW I am lucky to stay at home with my baby, and I GET IT. I wouldn't change it for anything. Staying at home takes so much stress off of the family and allows the big kids to do things after school that they wouldn't be able to if all of us worked. Plus, daycare is expensive blah blah blah. I love seeing every little development that Piper achieves, and she seriously learns something new every day. I love it, and I DO NOT want to go back to a crappy, stressful job that I'm only at to pay for day care for my child that I didn't want to put in day care in the first place. I'm lucky, and I understand that completely.
Anyway, this may seem totally disjointed, but I had to get it out of my head. Obviously it's not just going to go away, but I have to figure it out somehow. Right now I'm going to go play "20 Questions: Dinner Edition - do you want this yogurt or not? and no you can't just eat cookies."
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Because we can't leave out the sarcasm...
So back in 2006, when my life totally changed, was the beginning of the end of my blog. All of the sudden I wasn’t single and having weird adventures anymore – I was with a wonderful guy AND HIS CHILDREN. This was not a bad thing at all, just sort of…sudden. I thought I had it all under control – how different could being someone’s tertiary parent (because they already have a mom and dad) be from being a full-time babysitter? SO DIFFERENT. MILES AND MILES OF DIFFERENT.
Anyway, I won’t bore you with the many growing pains of the last 7 years, but suffice it to say, mistakes? I’ve made a few. If by "a few" you mean "so many I can’t even begin to think about it." On the other hand, I feel like I did the best I could and the children have come out relatively unscathed thus far.
And then I had a baby. I think I’ve mentioned before that pregnancy wasn’t the lovely glowing experience I was deluded into believing it was going to be. No. It was not. And then I had my little bundle of joy and the first day of her life wasn’t all staring at her and being in love, it was more like panicking and wondering if the constant gagging noises she was making were because she was disgusted that she had to come out into the cold, cold world. Turns out she’d swallowed a bunch of amniotic fluid, but seriously, who’s rational when they’ve just given birth?
That first year was HARD. You know, people say “being a parent is hard” or “having a baby changes your whole life” and you smile and nod and think “It's because they're so CUTE! I can’t wait to have a baby!” Then you have the baby and you’re like “WHY didn’t anyone TELL me it would be this hard and change everything? WHY?”
Now my baby is a nearly 3 year old bundle of adorable and part of the reason I wanted to write again was because I can’t possibly write down everything cute she does or says in her baby book. It’s not big enough for all that cute. The other part was because I’ve never been a journal writer and there are things I think to myself “I want to remember this” but I know I won’t. Because I can’t leave the bathroom without forgetting whether or not I flushed the toilet. Luckily, I no longer go to the bathroom solo, and so Piper makes sure the toilet is flushed.
I’ve also gotten over the pressure of feeling like I need to write with an audience in mind and that I needed to not bore everyone with the mundane and that I needed to be funny. I feel like I have stories to tell that are longer than a Facebook status allows. If people read, great. But if not, this is just a record of my life. So when my kids read it later, they’ll get to see another side of me that wasn’t just their mom, but an ACTUAL PERSON who had a good time secretly behind their backs.
There are also my recipes, my Pinterest successes/failures, and much more fascinating stuff. Seriously. It's like edge-of-your-seat around here. You won't want to miss a thing.
Did I mention the sarcasm? Because that's here too.
Anyway, I won’t bore you with the many growing pains of the last 7 years, but suffice it to say, mistakes? I’ve made a few. If by "a few" you mean "so many I can’t even begin to think about it." On the other hand, I feel like I did the best I could and the children have come out relatively unscathed thus far.
And then I had a baby. I think I’ve mentioned before that pregnancy wasn’t the lovely glowing experience I was deluded into believing it was going to be. No. It was not. And then I had my little bundle of joy and the first day of her life wasn’t all staring at her and being in love, it was more like panicking and wondering if the constant gagging noises she was making were because she was disgusted that she had to come out into the cold, cold world. Turns out she’d swallowed a bunch of amniotic fluid, but seriously, who’s rational when they’ve just given birth?
That first year was HARD. You know, people say “being a parent is hard” or “having a baby changes your whole life” and you smile and nod and think “It's because they're so CUTE! I can’t wait to have a baby!” Then you have the baby and you’re like “WHY didn’t anyone TELL me it would be this hard and change everything? WHY?”
Now my baby is a nearly 3 year old bundle of adorable and part of the reason I wanted to write again was because I can’t possibly write down everything cute she does or says in her baby book. It’s not big enough for all that cute. The other part was because I’ve never been a journal writer and there are things I think to myself “I want to remember this” but I know I won’t. Because I can’t leave the bathroom without forgetting whether or not I flushed the toilet. Luckily, I no longer go to the bathroom solo, and so Piper makes sure the toilet is flushed.
I’ve also gotten over the pressure of feeling like I need to write with an audience in mind and that I needed to not bore everyone with the mundane and that I needed to be funny. I feel like I have stories to tell that are longer than a Facebook status allows. If people read, great. But if not, this is just a record of my life. So when my kids read it later, they’ll get to see another side of me that wasn’t just their mom, but an ACTUAL PERSON who had a good time secretly behind their backs.
There are also my recipes, my Pinterest successes/failures, and much more fascinating stuff. Seriously. It's like edge-of-your-seat around here. You won't want to miss a thing.
Did I mention the sarcasm? Because that's here too.
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