Tuesday, April 06, 2004
If I were to characterize the main emotion over the last couple of days, it would be that I feel sucked dry. I feel like I am going through the motions. Part of this feeling is simply being tired. We drove to Modesto on Saturday for Phoebe's birthday party and since then she has not been sleeping well due to teething. Her not sleeping well means me waking every two to three hours. I should back up to say that Sunday was a marvelous day that recharged my batteries considerably. Greg and I relaxed and connected and had a wonderful day (and the Kings won a game again finally :)
But back to work on Monday! I am so tired of the commute and traffic and working inside. Some hours I must just force myself to keep working and not just say 'screw it' and just leave. I am trying to figure out how to come to some sort of balance--finding ways to enjoy this time here before we leave for the road and still nourish myself.
Part of me is very afraid that this decision to leave and go on the road will not solve anything and that I'll be just as frustrated and bored on the road. But I simply can't imagine that is true. How will being with my family be boring--or working for myself? Yes, there will always be grumpy days, sad days, trying times, but this ongoing disjointed feeling that I'm not doing what I'm meant to be doing?
I am trying to think back to see if there were times in my life where I felt satisfied about my livelyhood. I was very happy in school. I've always loved school--some people think that is crazy, but I always said that I'd love to be a professional student. I've had "real" jobs now for about 10 years. I certainly enjoyed my first years at my first three companies. It seems like I get bored after about 2 years. Job satisfaction on this job lasted the least amount of time--I think I'm just done with this career field.
How does one find the patience and enjoyment in bridging the gap though? I've run through senarios--quit, have Greg go back to work (lame idea as his man power is what we need to finish our house!), quit, live on savings until we leave (talk about burning bridges), reduce my hours (ok idea), or just stick it out. Stick it out keeps winning but ugh!
Last week I think I was just about to pop. If not for Sunday, I think I would have started getting depressed again. Phoebe's schedule has changed until I have literally no time to myself. She wakes with me at 6AM, I go to work and haven't been taking a long lunch, if any, I get home about 6:30PM and have to go to bed with Phoebe about 9PM. I was getting so angry at Greg, just out of jealously more than anything! How dare he have the luxury of time to himself at home! ;) I think a part of me is really afraid that once we are on the road it will be more of the same--what if Greg is freed up, but I am still full-time mommy? I guess all I can do is make sure that we both have time to ourselves! No one said being a mom is easy.
K posted this to our journal group today:
Making a Fist
by Naomi Shihab Nye
For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
"How do you know if you are going to die?"
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist."
Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.
Ah, poetry. Reading a poem just makes something open inside me. I remember when poetry was flowing out of me. The feeling was like I was channelling from a well outside of me, tapping into some pool of creativity and giving it my own spin. I think I need more beauty in my life. When I think of beauty, the only thing in my life beautiful right now is Phoebe. Everything else is dusty and cluttery. The weather has been nice and honestly, it is so hard for me to even see the beauty of the sky.
I am blocked.
¶ 3:25 PM
But back to work on Monday! I am so tired of the commute and traffic and working inside. Some hours I must just force myself to keep working and not just say 'screw it' and just leave. I am trying to figure out how to come to some sort of balance--finding ways to enjoy this time here before we leave for the road and still nourish myself.
Part of me is very afraid that this decision to leave and go on the road will not solve anything and that I'll be just as frustrated and bored on the road. But I simply can't imagine that is true. How will being with my family be boring--or working for myself? Yes, there will always be grumpy days, sad days, trying times, but this ongoing disjointed feeling that I'm not doing what I'm meant to be doing?
I am trying to think back to see if there were times in my life where I felt satisfied about my livelyhood. I was very happy in school. I've always loved school--some people think that is crazy, but I always said that I'd love to be a professional student. I've had "real" jobs now for about 10 years. I certainly enjoyed my first years at my first three companies. It seems like I get bored after about 2 years. Job satisfaction on this job lasted the least amount of time--I think I'm just done with this career field.
How does one find the patience and enjoyment in bridging the gap though? I've run through senarios--quit, have Greg go back to work (lame idea as his man power is what we need to finish our house!), quit, live on savings until we leave (talk about burning bridges), reduce my hours (ok idea), or just stick it out. Stick it out keeps winning but ugh!
Last week I think I was just about to pop. If not for Sunday, I think I would have started getting depressed again. Phoebe's schedule has changed until I have literally no time to myself. She wakes with me at 6AM, I go to work and haven't been taking a long lunch, if any, I get home about 6:30PM and have to go to bed with Phoebe about 9PM. I was getting so angry at Greg, just out of jealously more than anything! How dare he have the luxury of time to himself at home! ;) I think a part of me is really afraid that once we are on the road it will be more of the same--what if Greg is freed up, but I am still full-time mommy? I guess all I can do is make sure that we both have time to ourselves! No one said being a mom is easy.
K posted this to our journal group today:
Making a Fist
by Naomi Shihab Nye
For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
"How do you know if you are going to die?"
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist."
Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.
Ah, poetry. Reading a poem just makes something open inside me. I remember when poetry was flowing out of me. The feeling was like I was channelling from a well outside of me, tapping into some pool of creativity and giving it my own spin. I think I need more beauty in my life. When I think of beauty, the only thing in my life beautiful right now is Phoebe. Everything else is dusty and cluttery. The weather has been nice and honestly, it is so hard for me to even see the beauty of the sky.
I am blocked.
¶ 3:25 PM
