I was thinking today, about how I've done a lot of accepting in my life. Which is a good thing. I don't mean settling. I mean accepting things that have already happened or people in my life for being who they are, no more, no less. I can look back and say, yes, that happened, it's okay. So and so will always be so and so and no-one else. And from all the things I have had to work to accept, I have learned something and grown in some way.
I have tried to make decisions along the way, as we all do, that will make us happy in the end. Like a game of Othello, move by move, I am trying to flip the chips on the board, white or black. Flip them all over to happy, or as many as I can. And I get nervous that I will not make the right moves. Especially as I get older, as the game goes on, I have less time and less moves I can make. The board is filling up. I am afraid I will end up with more sad chips face-up than happy. For now, I feel like I am doing well, but seem to be at a pivotal point. I want to make a big decision. One that could flip a lot of chips one way or the other.
I was thinking about how I have gotten good at accepting things that are done but could use some work on accepting the risk involved in making choices for the future. Especially big ones. I wish someone would tell me what to do. I wish my mother were alive so I could ask her what she thinks. I wish I had a crystal ball I could gaze into and see all outcomes and choose the best one.
It is hard to want a lot of things, to be afraid of most of them and having to choose only a few.
Next year Desmond goes to kindergarten. From 9 am to 3 pm, I will be free, five days a week. This, my friends, is an opportunity. What will I do with this opportunity? This is the question.
I could keep doing what I've been doing, outside of mothering. Work on house projects, art projects, writing projects and other projects more wholeheartedly. That sounds really good. I could also give myself a little time to re-coup. Take a breather. Take some time to think about making a big change or continuing on as I have been. This seems like the safest bet. The gentlest and the easiest.
I have been thinking about a Master's Degree in Social Work. To be a therapist down the line. To go to school and get a "real" job and work with other adults in the adult world. To be helpful, to be useful outside of my home. To be able to say at a party when someone asks, "What do you do?" "Oh, I work at such and such a place, with such and such people and I do such and such." Actually, I should just start saying exactly that at parties. Can I get a Master's in Such and Such? Because I would be really good at that.
I have often thought of being a therapist, doing some sort social work. I think I would enjoy it. But I might not. No guarantees. So, that's risky. Also, it costs money! Oh, and time! Money and time. Valuable things. It would take years. But it could happen.
Another major big, and even more life-altering option is having another baby. I must be mad. I can only think to blame my cave-woman brain for this. Some biological clock that should have run out of batteries by now. Why do you torment me? Should I have a second child? Will I go insane? Will I be a terrible, mean, depressed mother if I do this? What if the second child is autistic? What if we have another child and then we all get cancer from GMOs at the same time? What kind of world is this? What if the two kids hate each other? What if they fight all the time? Would he be mean to a little sibling? Would I resent him for it? What if I love the second one more? Or less? What if my boobs end up 6" lower than they are now? What if my body can't bounce back after being stretched so far a second time? What if I age even more rapidly than the president with a second child? Will my puffy eyes become even more pronounced? Like two big croissants on my face? Puffy and wrinkly and flaky.... like chocolate croissants with the dark circles. I'll have chocolate croissant eyes. What if something happens to Desmond, shouldn't I have a back-up kid? Would a sibling make Desmond a better person? Would it be fun? Would it be too hard? Would it be easier? Am I too old?
It would be harder to travel. More expensive in every way. We could do more for and with Desmond if it is just him. But I'd have a better chance of my children keeping in touch with me, right? Maybe at least one would. Maybe one would take care of me in my old age. Because I will be old pretty soon. Or dead. My mother died when she was 48. What if I die young? Do I want to leave two children behind instead of one? Would that be better or worse? If I were 48 when I died, a baby I have now would only be 10 years old. That won't happen though. That won't happen.
With Desmond I knew I wanted to be a mom, there was not much else to think about. I was so curious about being pregnant, giving birth, nursing, caring for a baby, raising a child, creating a family. I had no idea each of these things were going to be such hard work. And so painful. Sleep training was beyond challenging. Doing all of that again, knowing what I would be in for would be a very different thing. I would have to be crazy, I think. I feel like I'd be scared the whole time. That wouldn't be good. Still, I am considering it. I would do things differently if I did it again. I would not eat EVERYTHING I wanted to this time while I was pregnant. I would give birth in a hospital, so I could have some drugs. Not much I could do different nursing but at least I know what pump works now. Sigh.
It's exhausting just thinking about it. I am afraid. I don't want to do any of that. But there is a nagging feeling that someone is missing in the house. Someone is tugging at me.
I don't want to stay home another five years. I don't want to put a baby in child-care either. Maybe I could go to school part time? Is that even possible?
So, I sit in front of this Othello game of life. And I stare at the board. I am not sure what move to make. It may seem like I am over-analyzing this. But, I guess I feel like I should think about it. You know, before I make a human. Or decide not to. Send a "request denied" back into the ether. Sorry, baby in waiting, or cave-woman brain, or biological clock. Mamma wants a pay-check.
