Breathe In, Breathe Out

March has not been our month, suffice to say. How can I know that, when March only just began last week? I’m not sure. Call it a knack.

I can’t get into the details why (but I’m sure you can guess, it starts with an ‘m’ and ends in an ‘oney’).

I really hope that M gets a call back soon. M really hopes to get a call back soon. There’s a couple places that look promising so, figures are crossed.

That being said, it’s not all terrible. Just…stressful.

Onto brighter topics…we are getting a new dishwasher and flooring for the kitchen next week. We’re also getting the basement flooring, ceiling and walls replaced but I’m most excited about the kitchen stuff. I haven’t really missed the dishwasher, but I miss having flooring and a kitchen table.

Once the kitchen is done, M and I will be able to set up/tighten etc our new-to-us table, and we’ll be done with meals in the living room. (I hate meals in the living room…so messy and ugh, just no).

Also…I’ve been doing my best to keep busy and keep this mental funk I’m in at bay. Two days ago, I took N on a play date at my friend’s house (while Aj stayed home with M — he was tired and cranky). N is in love with her daughter and they’re super cute together. It was awesome to catch up. We’ve gotta get together more often.

Last night, I went out with friends for a few games of pool. I’m getting progressively better at pool…most times, anyway. It was awesome seeing everyone. At one point, they were all talking about work and promotions and universities and I felt a little out of place, so I jokingly said “look at you all! Talking about jobs and all that shit, and I’m sitting here like…I put on pants today.”


It got a lot of laughs, and I don’t mind being a stay-at-home mom…but I’ll confess something. I don’t feel fulfilled all the time. Like, I do but…I don’t? If that makes sense? I do when I’m not thinking about it or comparing notes to my more accomplished friends but when I do hear about all their accomplishments, well. I don’t feel like I have many at all.

I haven’t graduated college or university, I haven’t even managed to fully potty train my near 4 year old. My 17 month old still doesn’t sleep through the night, and I’m not one of those super awesome Stepford Wives/bake sale moms. I don’t bake at all, actually, and while I’m a decent cook I’m not a “green” cook. I use prepackaged things often, and I sometimes microwave my kids vegetables when we run out of time.

I feel like I suck. Especially lately, with the lack of structure and activities. Like, when I had just N when did stuff every single day. We were busy. But it’s harder to get out with both kids. For me, anyway. In the winter, anyway.

“But staying at home with two kids is is hard”, my friends will say, trying to make me feel better.

And it is hard, it’s a different kind of hard, a different kind of challenge, a different kind of fulfillment.

I question myself daily. I question what I’m doing, what I’m not doing, what I want to do and what I don’t want to do. I have no clue how to do this “job” I’m doing, no prior training, no textbook to consult when I don’t have a solution (at least, none with a guaranteed outcome).

Lately I’ve been asking myself…do I even want to go back to school?

And, I’m not sure what the answer is. I love learning, I would love that aspect of it. But with 98% of the people I know spending so much on college and their “college education” not helping them get jobs, it just scares me.

But…so does “not accomplishing anything”.

Like, I can’t say “oh I had a breakthrough at work today!” Or “I got a promotion/raise!” I can’t say I finished a paper or report that was due or that I landed a new client.

I can say the kids and I did [insert whatever activity], that I cleaned my house and got caught up on laundry (well, usually. Haven’t been able to say that lately haha). And while I have tons of fun with my kids each day…I just don’t feel like I say that’s an accomplishment. Having a wonderful time with them is a given. Doing fun stuff with them is a given. They are wonderful, hilarious little people and I adore them, but I can’t make their accomplishments mine. One of my biggest fears is that I will be one of those mothers that lives through her children’s accomplishments, that is defined by them.

I don’t even know if what I’m writing makes sense, just that I’m writing it because maybe there’s someone out there who’s nodding along going “man, I get this” and that’d be cool. If not, ignore this post.

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