"Father, forgive me for I have sinned" is the way I remember starting a Catholic confessional.
Are you disappointed that I did not kick of the New Year with a resolution post?
I know you're not. You are totally licking your lips in anticipation of morsels of guilt confessed.
Ok, so I had no big scandals involving adultery or gambling or plastic surgery or such.
This is more of taking a deep breath and admitting something out loud.
So I am a career woman now. Real deal. Swallowed the whole gig hook, line, and sinker.
That's not the confession part. The confession part is that I miss being at home.
I do. I miss letting my kids be kids. I miss having things organized. (Though we all know that is such a relative term, organized). I miss cooking real dinners most nights. I miss having free time without having to borrow from my already shortened sleep.
I don't want to stop working. I like it. It's been good for me. It's been good for my family. I just don't want to work so much. Or maybe I just want to be better at balancing.
Whenever my family moves, I feel as if it takes 2 years to really feel at home there. Maybe after 2 years of working full time I will feel at home in my career mom skin. I'm the better part of a year shy. I do want to find more balance. In retrospect, the happiest period of recent times has been when I was working part time. Can I find balance in an unbalanced schedule?
I responded to a comment made the other day by a reader on an older post ("Everybody Needs a Housewife, Including Me") that I have recently been intrigued by the idea that "taking care of" is an art. It is something learned with care, just as people learn to be engineers or accountants. What I mean to say is that I feel the need to recapture the honor of being able to take care of my home and my children and *gasp* my husband and even myself.
I have no idea how I will do this. I am not even really asking for suggestions as I suspect this is something I have to feel my way through.
This blog, at its heart, has always been about figuring out who we are best meant to be. I am quite certain I am not meant to be who I was entirely last year. In some ways, absolutely positively YES I was made for what I was doing. But there was much left unattended to.
This blog became a little scattered and self-centered last year and the reason is because I was.
Phew, I am done confessing now. C'est le vie. Let's see what happens this year.
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