Sarah You will have so much free time, they said. So what do you do all day, they asked. Must be nice, they sniffed. Ha! After nearly six years of putting my children and family before my own dreams–not to mention the modifications, and sometimes outright sacrifices, I’ve been making to my personal goals ever since getting married–my youngest was starting Kindergarten so I finally had more than two uninterrupted hours per day to rub together. I know it’s true that I’m lucky to have been able to stay home with my kids during their baby, toddler, and preschool years. I know that the life choices I have made ever since saying “I do” 15 years ago have given me wonderful experiences and opportunities. I would not change it. But is it wrong of me to not be able to shake the niggling feeling that I could have done more? That I could have been more?
So here I sit, at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, my children in school and my house gloriously empty. The week stretches out before me with so much possibility, seemingly countless hours of time to reconnect with myself and start pursuing my passions! (During school hours only, of course.) But, as I look around me, I see the messes the kids made this weekend that need cleaning up. I see dishes in the sink and laundry in the hamper. I see dust on the coffee table, amongst the detritus of a half-built LEGO set, and now the dog has found me and her eyes are begging for a walk. Upon our return, a quick look in the pantry for a dog biscuit reminds me that I’ve got to restock groceries for the week, and figure out what to make for dinner tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after, on into eternity. So I’d better get to the grocery store. But before I do that, I should call and confirm the kids’ dentist appointments next week. They are getting big so fast! Which reminds me that they both need new pairs of sneakers in larger sizes, and I’d better get online to buy those. That task leads me to checking my email, upon which I find that my daughter has a “100 days of school” project to complete by Friday, so I’ve got to figure out the supplies she’ll need. And she has a Girl Scout meeting next week I should start planning–since I’m a stay-at-home-mom, I have more time than other parents, so I’ve been roped into filling the troop leader role. All of a sudden it’s 1:30 p.m. and I’ve still got to get to the store and change the laundry and while I’ve had a productive day so far as a household manager, I feel as though I’ve done nothing. Because I have done nothing for me.
I’ve used my brain all day in a way that is, at the same time, critically essential for our lives as a family, and critically numbing for me as a human being. I am lucky, and happy, and am fulfilling my purpose on this planet as a wife and mother. But I think back to when I was a kid, and remember my hopes and ambitions and all the possibility that life held. If I had been told my future, I would have been sad. I would have asked if I did any of the things I wanted to do before becoming who I am now, and the answer would have been not really. I wonder what happened to that girl and if she is still there, hiding deep inside me under several piles of laundry to fold. I think that she is. And I think that I’d better make time for her, before it’s too late and she’s gone forever underneath wrinkles and arthritis and a mother of the bride dress. The time (I don’t have) is now! Seize it (after planning dinner)! So today, I’m ignoring the chores and I’m starting out. I’m making time for new experiences and new creations. I’m planning, writing, photographing, recording, editing, and sharing. If what I create (between morning and afternoon carpool) brings you any joy or adds any value to your own travels, I am deeply grateful. Thank you for allowing me to share my journeys with you.
xoxo
S
