Much Ado About Me

Rediscovering myself? Reinventing? More like putting it all together. Using what I know now with what I could have done and actually applying myself. Actually posting the blurbs I only write halfway. That means writing faster. Which means writing more. That way I can produce more effectively. Grease the wheels and the wheels will go. That’s Applied Knowledge at its finest, ladies and gentlemen, putting everything together.

Some things are falling into place, but my time management and continued efforts to keep things going are not. Disrupted by children whom I can’t blame, it’s a constant battle to carve out any time at all to create an identity that is me. Sure I should be proud. It could be a lot worse, my husband says. It could, I agree! But as always, I want more. And more than anything I want to create stories that people want to read. Humor, baking, history, wine, god forbid, parenting. Jewelry is nice but words are my thing. I’ve always come back to them and when I work with them, they rarely let me down. They are the progress I want to see. Streams and streams of them across the page. Prose, articles, poetry, blurbs… I’ve never gotten tired of them and I can always see myself writing. Batiking, sure, but so much dyeing and time. Jewelry, beautiful and proud of how I get to wear or see people wearing my work, but not as easy as I had imagined.

If only I could be happy just being Mom and doing all of those Mom things–soccer Mom, play dates, activities and projects that teach… But it’s not all sunny– they whine, they pitch fits, they rock the boat and throw rocks back at the limits they just crossed. To keep my cool and curb their shitty attitude is tantamount but it sure is easy to say. Trying to figure out what works before they move onto the next stage while listening to other parents’ stories but not putting too much stock in how they say I should be doing it… Somehow in my world just being Mom sucks and that drives me crazy to no end. Why can’t I be good and happy at it? Is this funk enough to find another avenue aka get a job? Would any job I get make the equation balance between expenses and income? Or would I just be making all of our lives harder? Harder than they already are?

So somehow, as always, I’ve talked myself straight back the beginning– re-identifying myself. Restructuring to fit our current needs. It’s not just about me. We are a family and I am a part of it. Right now doing my parts which means children first and foremost. If I’m lucky enough, I will teach my children about space and when it’s Mom’s Time and I will learn to jump on opportunity when it presents itself. Ten minutes here, 20 there. Right now it’s 11pm with puffy tear stained eyes and a stuffy nose. But it’s mine and it’s got words.

I keep hoping it will all come together with this piece or that, but I know I just have to work with what I have. Like hubs says, we’re lucky. We may even be luckier than both of our parents were. I guess it all depends on how one defines luck. So many people have worked harder, come from a harder place, made due with less. Call me spoiled, I don’t want to.

Doomed to be a thinker, my doing capabilities are limited by how fast I can think, It takes me a while sometimes and being bull-headed, once I get a firm thought in my head that won’t go away (for years), it’s hard to stop thinking about it and do it. How do I do it? Should I do it this way or that way? Do I have enough time now? Will the kids spare me some time? Am I doing it right? Should I try something different?

But back to writing effectively, I just have to do it. Every day. Any moment I can spare. Lately it’s been driving. Not good. But the ideas whiz in and whiz out so fast, I know I have to get the paper out so I can catch enough to re-do it later. And I’m the only one who can do it. So maybe ifย I make a routine, my brain and my children will accept it and I will satisfy that incredible need I have to be somebody, to create something, to be Selene as well as Mom, housekeeper, chauffeur, chef, financial bitch and wife. Why can’t I be happy just being Mom?

About eyeofmyown

woman, wife, mother, writer, artist...
This entry was posted in emotions, life changing, personal processes, real life stories, rediscovering myself, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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