mommy says you can't control anything
Did you ever notice that when you buy soft cookies and they spoil, they become hard and crunchy? But, when you buy crunchy cookies and they spoil, they go soft and chewy? This is just one of the thousands of thoughts that clutter my brain on a daily basis. It is symbolic of everything we try to control and make perfect, but in the end it all just leaves a bad taste in our mouths. Who wants a hard cookie when you are expecting something with soft fresh-from-the-oven consistency?
I remember a time when Adam and I had just started dating and he made what seemed to me to be a crazy announcement. He was thinking of leaving journalism to go work in the donut room of his father’s business. Now for me, someone who did not get the college experience until 30, with two kids and a job, finally working in a field that I enjoyed and worked so hard to get into, it seemed, well, nuts to willingly leave. Why go to college and spend tons of money to give it up for something you could have done all along and actually never seemed to enjoy?
But he considered it and he told me. I paused before I spoke.
“Why? Why would you want to leave a newsroom?” I asked. “I will never leave. As much as I complain about the hours and all the hassles, I love it. I will die here if I have my way.”
I meant it. I had worked too hard to get there to just leave. I had put myself through college and paid off all my loans within a year of graduation. I had been told by loved-ones that I would never be more than a wife and mother. I was told I had lots of talent-just nothing anyone would ever pay me to do. My past still haunted me like a bad dream and I was on a mission to forever prove those few people wrong. I was never leaving the newsroom.
Yet, here I am. Freelance writing for newspapers and working small PR accounts as a stay at home- work from home mom. Did I mention how much I need silence to work? Did I mention I hate Barney? There are days I wish I could just cut off my ears. So this situation is another example of something I thought I had in control taking on a life of its own. Motherhood controls all. It always has, it always will.
We married and Adam ended up staying and becoming “Mr. Portsmouth reporter” and I ended up leaving, caring for our first son, who gave me a scary problem pregnancy and, after he was born, seizures. Then came Dylan, and here I am. Trying to work and feel like a productive human being (which those few people from my past had informed me I would never be) all while taking care of two little boys, ages 2 and 3 years, with constant needs and a passion for wrestling until someone inevitable gets hurt.
But they are beautiful. They and their two older sisters are my life. And as much as I hate to submit to old fashioned thinking…they are my work now. The toddlers have also interrupted at least a dozen times as I write this. I am searching for balance at this point. If I find it, I will let you know as I am certain there are others out there like me, trying to have it all and finding out it is exhausting and very humbling.