Little Nudges, What's Next, and a List of Things I know
The one where I totally change direction, and things are still okay.
Yep … there it is. I turned 35 at the end of January.
Year 34 was full of nudges that were fearlessly followed. The early motherhood fog lifted ever so slowly. Physically, a good rhythm of exercising and eating proper portions evolved. Mentally, self care included getting more seriously into creating with watercolor and writing. Some days, I feel like early motherhood is but a scent I smell on the air, kettle corn whiffed from the fair across town. Through a lot of reflection and soul searching, I’m learning that I’m a whole person as well as a mama. And that person needs to be nourished spiritually as well as physically, and mentally.
In my 34th trip around the sun, I picked up a paintbrush for watercolor painting for the first time ever. I also picked up pen and paper to write my stories down. I read 78 books (thank you audio books, and some really late nights with sick children). I listened to more podcasts than I can count. I also breastfed my last baby for the last time shortly after turning 34. My oldest started writing her name and coloring in the lines. I got rid of social media a couple times as well as clothing that just doesn't suit me anymore (pun intended.)
Now, I’ve been 35 for a month and a half. So what's next?
This question looms over my head, not dauntingly per se, but definitely looming like my child watching me sleep in the middle of the night. The question startles me awake just like that, actually. I'll wake up from a dream because one or both my children have nudged me awake. I help my little one to go to the bathroom and snuggle back under her unicorn rainbow covers. On my way back to bed, there it is.
"But what's next?" Barely a whisper that feels like a cat rubbing up against the back of my brain. Purring softly over and over. "What's next? What's next? What's next?"
Up to this point, there's always been a “next chapter” that was easy to read. The chapter had already written many times over for other people, and I was merely scanning it for the details that molded into my life. After high school, go to college. After graduation, get a job. Meet a husband OR move to the city. Luckily, I found me a great husband. After that, we brought two children into the world and I was blessed to be able to stay home with them. Now the chapters start looking less filled out, and there are a few more blanks. A mad-lib of life.
What. The heck. Is next?
Well, in the month and a half since I turned 35, the chapter called “Let’s be a mom and homemaker for the next five years until the youngest is in 1st grade” suddenly felt the nudge and rewrote itself to be called “Here I come corporate America.”. Starting next week, I’ll work full time as an executive assistant at a retirement community. That means the kids start daycare, and I’ll trade in my comfy leggings and baggy t-shirts and all the time for creating during the day for pencil skirts, heels, and creating mostly on my lunch break.
The next five years of my life (I thought) were going to be spent molding the kids while they grow into tiny humans and start school. I was going to write. I was going to paint. I was going to be the perfect home maker, and really get this house into shape! But when opportunity presents itself, it’s hard to not take the leap into something new.
Now, the late night questions and intrusive thoughts flooding my brain go something like this: What if the kids don’t like daycare, or they aren’t happy with (only) 4.5 hours a day I’ll get to spend with them? What if I don’t remember how to use any applications or schedule appointments? How in the world do people do all the things at home, like laundry, cooking, cleaning as well as work full time? How do I maintain the creativity throughout my life in the ways I thought I’d really hone in on for the next five years? CAN I EVEN REALLY DO THIS? Do I deserve this? (The impostor syndrome is strong with this one).
To say I finally let go and let God sounds so cliché. But when I tell you that everything feels divinely wrapped in God’s love, I really mean it. There are so many other questions that have actually calmed my soul in this process. What are the odds that we found the one daycare that’s literally three minutes from where I’ll be working, and that had an opening for each of my kids? And it has a faith based lesson plan, and it won’t cost my entire pay check? Sounds good! What are the odds that we started going to church, so that leaving them in a daycare is a sort of trial run for all of us, and is working out pretty good so far? That’s cool. What are the odds that although I have lots of questions about how this will affect our lives in a negative way, that my husband and my mom and all my friends are rallying to support me and this wild decision, and things are looking up in even the hardest moments before I start? This tracks with my past large life decisions, so I’m not really surprised.
#blessed doesn’t even begin to cover the feeling. How about that, 35? We have a loving and supportive community and family, and a job that had been the end game goal all those years ago when I stopped working to have children. The plans changed, and the feelings are big as we move into the next stage of this as a family. And we are flourishing in the face of all of it.
I listened to This American Life with Ira Glass in my 34th year. I don't know which episode it was, but I heard something that I'd like to make part of my yearly inventory on life. More of a "taking stock" than resolutions at New Years with it's "New Year, New Me" sayings.
The episode talks about "This I know." The words I wrote in my Notes app look something like this:
Ira Glass - "This I know". A Taking Stock. For my birthday.
I hurriedly typed in my notes app so the light from my phone wouldn't wake up an almost totally asleep child at bedtime. And so here I am, writing the things I know to be true about my life, going into my 35th year, which might keep me grounded through all these big changes going on. Here they are.
The world sucks sometimes with its fires and fighting and politics. It's okay to pause to note where you can make a difference in your world, for your people or community. Then pursue that change, and light your own fires of love to put forth into the world.
Making my loved ones happy in their love language makes me infinitely happier in mine. So keep trying to spend time, give gifts, say nice things, do nice things, and touch more often. I keep a list in my notes app for what I think these people in my life may want.
Motherhood sucks sometimes, and it's okay to scream and cry. Just apologize for acting like the children you are raising, and talk about other ways to deal. It'll help them and you the next time the world sucks.
Treat creativity like a friend. Greet it when it comes, and take it by the hand. Soothe it's fears with soft words of courage, and then get on with the creating. Especially if it makes you happy. And even if the thing you create isn't perfect.
Take the leap into the hobby. Take the opportunity to change your day to day. Take the chance to make yourself and your family proud, even when it means uprooting all they have known their whole lives. Whenever you can, just take the thing that scares you, and at least give it a good try.
So there you go. At 34, I felt the nudges and went where they took me. I put an outline together of what comes next as far as creating and mothering. But then I turned 35, and the nudge to go to work in a corporate role that I had been chasing since I started working in healthcare administration took me by surprise. Through the journey to getting the job, I made a list of what I know to be true in this season in my life, to keep me grounded and sane. Cheers to another year of making the world a better place, and to being the best working mom for my kids than I ever thought possible.
Thank you for reading Ramblings of a thirty four year old wife and mom. Suggestion box is open and ready for inspiration on the next big ramble to write about. Don’t be shy!
Inspiration for you: Think about all the things you know to be true - make them funny or interesting, or heart felt. Maybe I’ll share my silly list of things I know next time.
Inspiration (and accountability) for me: Well February never happened - but if I keep looking at my notes app and putting more on paper more fully, perhaps I’ll move forward in some of my 2024 goals.
Currently reading: Goodbye Stranger - by Rebecca Stead for Exhale book club. It’s a great one so far!
Substack Read of the week: This read by Maggie Smith is one of the most validating reads since I have been even thinking about a new job, way back in beginning of February.
Jess K’s beautiful piece is not only about Jellyfish, it’s about appreciating what it means to love, listen and be a good person, just like she is!
And finally, this piece on taking a writing break - which I think I just got out of unknowingly (hence the no pieces written for Substack in about two months.) Keep writing when the time suits you, and in the margins, my friends!
And this makes me laugh because, oh my gosh … I still forget who sees these each time I send it out. So at first, I don’t think anyone is reading it. Then I find out people are reading it.
First, I love this. I love everything you wrote! Cheering you on as you start this new chapter!!!! I could not be more excited for you and you are just going to be absolutely amazing!
Thank you also for the super kind shout out. So happy we met and can share in creativity and life 💜