Anyways, today was funny in how uninteresting it was. We stayed up late yesterday for the 4th, but come around 5 am I was losing sleep over one seriously aggravating deadline that I didn't want to take in the first place. So I got up, finished writing and editing and then went back to sleep. This was the first time I have slept till noon in yyeeeeaaaarrrrrss--bonus points for me for taking advantage of that little perk FINALLY.
I paid bills and then randomly decided to start organizing the kids' game cabinet. But of course what seemed random at the time is now, in retrospect, not at all. Because for the past two weeks I have been cleaning and organizing and fluffing, nesting, tweaking a million little things around the house in a semi-conscious attempt to dot my i's and cross my t's before Kyle takes over my domain. I even cleaned out my car for him, which I never do even for me.
Kyle watched a movie when he got up, but after a while I realized I had lost track of him. What do you know, he was cleaning his car out for me. (We have to trade cars, because of course my Yukon was never really mine, it was the kids'. Whoever has the kids has the mac car.)
I had one small, hitched breath earlier when I did dare to say to myself that this was my last day as a stay at home mom--almost exactly seven years later. (They say the number eight represents change...things that make you go hmmmmm.) But the moment passed as quickly as it came because I am curious and excited (believe it or not) to see how this will play out.
This is the first time I can remember taking my hands off the wheel and driving on faith. I know that I want to be a writer, but am willingly walking away from that dream for the moment. I know that I put my family first, but am stepping back from my primary caregiver role in order to do that. I relish tapping my creative side for solace, but am donning a suit and briefcase to find peace. Any more contradictions and someone may have to remind me what my name is.
(Apparently this is called phase one according to a very interesting artist, gallery owner, life-coach-in-training I met the other day while shopping. But that's a-whole-nother story.)
And of course I have my question marks about the smallest aspects of daily life. Tomorrow when I wake up, do I unload the dishwasher as I always have as part of my morning routine, or do I stick it to the man? (HAhahaha!) Is the man actually going to remember to make dinner? (Does he know how?) Should I be sweet and make a list--ie don't forget to make the boys eat something that is not covered in cheese dust, don't let them play with firearms, feed the dog, please make the boys wash their hands at least once while I am gone and leave the washer door open so the mold smell doesn't return...
Don't even get me started on whether or not he knows who our pediatrician is, what the toilet bowl cleaner is for, when to take out the recycling, where the bandaids are, why Aussie should not be allowed to listen to "Crazy Train" after drinking Dr. Pepper or how to pay bills online.
But we shall cross each of those bridges as they come up and for entertainment I think I will track the number of calls and texts I get from him every day. Unless of course, he brilliantly transitions into my former job and forces me to go postal.
[Sigh. Nervous swallow.]
No comments:
Post a Comment