It’s my first official day as a stay-at-home mom and Amelia is screaming in her crib. She’s of the opinion that her fifteen-minute catnap home from Wal-mart was good enough.
I am not.
And since I’m determined that this part of our day, the beautiful, (usually) quiet, naptime part is going to be my time of reflection and writing, I’m refusing to get her. She’s really mad. I think she can hear me typing.
So, I’m writing this to the music of her wails and the header from A Holy Experience because I need at least one calming influence.
Except I just caved and good thing. The wail changed. Moms know. Now it’s not just an “I’m so mad I can’t stand myself” cry, but the one that makes you realize something might really be wrong. Her leg was stuck in the crib bars. So, I’ve rescued her and now she’s trying to make phone calls. She’s really irresistible, this bundle of curls and sticky, tears still on her cheeks.
It’s our first day home alone since she was eight weeks old. I’m not sure what to do with her. Or myself. The big girls are off to school, and while that prompted a whole different flood of emotions for so many different reasons, it is done. They’re both at the school where Madelynne started kindergarten and sometimes they’ll hop that yellow bus over to my old stomping grounds and I’ll be there waiting just like last year.
Truthfully, the hardest part of back to school has been not going myself. I feel awkward, out of place, a little disjointed. But I tell people I’m fine.
I asked Joshua, “What if I gave up the only thing I’m really good at?”
To which he promptly reminded me of all my other gifts and dreams and the realities of what I’ve already committed to because obviously others don’t think that.
But the truth is I’m scared sometimes. Of how we’ll make it. Of what I’ll become. Of who I want to be.
Teaching was my safety net. I was secure. I was liked (mostly). I was comfortable. Now when people ask me what I do, I always feel the need to justify myself.
“I taught at North until now. Just taking some time off to be a mom.” Like I have to apologize for wanting to do what’s best for our family, what’s best for me.
Because I couldn’t do it all and trying was killing me.
So what I mean is, I’m a mom. And that’s okay. But the person who became this mother, she’s still becoming more than just that. And that’s okay, too.
Because now I have the time to try something new. And I’m not fine.
3 thoughts on “What It All Means”
YES, Lindsey. Yes, yes, yes!! I'm so happy and thankful that you made this decision. I KNOW it's God-honoring so I KNOW He will bless you for it and I KNOW you will not regret it, not one bit. Enjoy every minute home with your little one/ones! 🙂
you are still writing, and as wonderfully as always, so you've not given up “that” thing that you are good at!!
it's still weird to me being at home, but then again, i was never a mom with a job outside the home. but, i often feel like i've given up on using my degree. if i ever decide to return to my original career, it'll take me years to catch up. but, then i realize (much like you) that doing what's best for my family is worth so much more…even if it means i feel strange about my non-existent paycheck or lack of daily meaningful adult conversation.
i totally feel you on this one. i always feel weird at the beginning of the school year. it is hard for me to walk past the school supplies and here about everything happening at school. then i watch ty roll over for the first time or hear eli say a new word or see the love they are beginning to have for one another and realize i would have missed that had i been at a “real” job. and they would be missing that bonding time as well.
it is totally worth not having new clothes or all the stuff the world says will make us happy! thanks for sharing your thoughts.