Mom Goals

Welp, I just tucked the girls in for the night. When I wake up tomorrow, it will be a new phase of mom life for me. My baby is going to kindergarten. All day. Every day. Just like that. My heart can barely take it, but I know it is time. She is ready to flap her little 5 year old wings and fly off into the land of big-kid school. Her confidence and excitement are palpable. "Why is this so hard?", I think to myself. Isn't this what I have wished for? Isn't this what I have dreamt of? This "freedom", and quiet, and peace, and time run errands alone, finish a though to completeness, and eat lunch sitting down? The answer is yes. Yes, this is what I wished for, and yet, the answer is also no--not yet! It's funny how when your children are very small, and you are drowning in poop and puke and tantrums you just CANNOT wait for some breathing room, for that glorious never-approaching day when they are both in school. And then something starts to switch in your heart when that last one, your baby, gets to be about 4 and you send her to preschool. You think, "OK, I've got this. This is good. A little time away, this freedom is fun. But man I'm glad this isn't every day. I couldn't handle it yet". And then the dread starts to creep over you slowly so that all year you talk about how sad you will be when she goes to kindergarten next year. (Ask me how I know this). You even go so far as to ask her (many, many times) if she's SURE she wants to go to kindergarten next year (summer birthdays do make going to kindergarten seem 'optional' when one is 5).  You do this because you are afraid. You aren't afraid that she won't do well, you know she's going to flourish. You are simply afraid for yourself, for this change (darn that 'c' word), and for what is going to be the first big identity shift for you in almost 8 years. You start to realize this identify shift is actually a real thing when everyone you meet asks, "What are you going to do with all that time?" There's your clue--that word, "time". You are going to have it, and the world expects you to fill it. If you have no children at home, and no job, then what in the world is your purpose?! No one asks you this, of course, but deep down you know THAT is really the question--what is my new purpose? Now, don't get me wrong or start to panic--I understand my purpose in life. But I am also a person who wants purpose and intention within her days. I am blessed with the resources to not have to fill this time gap with paid work (and the answer is 'no', I am not going to get a job--nor do I want to), but how can this gift of time be used to love others, honor God, and serve my family? These are the questions I've been asking myself the last six months. And while I don't have all the answers yet, I feel nudged to just be available. Just be. Be still. Have some calendar white space. I intentionally declined some leadership opportunities for this very reason. Until I know how this new schedule shakes out, and how the girls are doing settled in school (and what the classroom needs are--volunteering there is a big priority for me), I'm saying 'no' to just about everything outside of scheduled regular exercise and attending Bible study. This is not at all comfortable for me; I'm a busy bee and a people pleaser by nature. A full schedule makes me feel productive and accomplished. I recognize, however, that this usual way of living leaves little to no room for the unexpected, for the spontaneous, for the opportunities to serve. For the chance to truly be present. I have a good friend who is also a busy bee, and I often think of this quote she has printed and once mentioned to me--"If you want God to overwhelm your life, you have to underwhelm your calendar".  So, this is my chance; a break in the action that I want to seize. If nothing else, it's an intentional perspective shift. I'm going to put on my positive pants and take my sweet baby to kindergarten tomorrow. My eyes will be weepy (like they are right this second) and my heart will be hurting, but my face will be smiling and beaming with joy as we both start our new adventures...kind of like Adrienne's face when she realized that today was her very last day to sit and wait in the school pick up line. She's done her time, folks, and she's moving on.