I have been wondering, lately, if I should come to terms with the fact that I am not going to do anything else, or anything worthy of any mention should I say, except bring up my daughter. If I were to accept this fact, and stop believing that I will live any other dream, then I may find more peace than I do now. Once hope is dead, in a strange way (and this sounds more depressing than I intend it to), one can come to terms with reality and not have to live through daily turmoil. It’s only a thought, not that I am saying it’s what I’ll do.
Right now, my mind leaps into the future and imagines all sorts of merry scenarios where I’ve managed to strike that perfect balance between work and life, when, the truth is that I am doing damn all to achieve that. Yes, I am looking after my daughter and that’s commendable and all that good stuff, but I am fully aware of what lies before me – she will grow up and move on, and I will be left twiddling my thumb, or, to imagine the worst, lose my mind because that is precisely when I’d have the time to ponder over life and realize that time had passed me by, and all the rest of that. And the fact that such revelations will probably come coupled with the hot flashes of menopause (a cruel cruel double whammy), they may well ensure my quick and smooth transition into the loony bin, give me that final nudge, so to speak.
So if I am so aware of what lies in the future, what am I doing about it? Like I said, damn all, if you don’t count the blogging that is. Right now I have two hours while my daughter sleeps and I could try and get some work done, but venting some steam is what I am doing instead. In about twenty minutes she’ll be up and that’s it for the rest of the day for me. She’s two and super clingy so every thing I do has to include her or, well, or I hear her shrill, though utterly fake, cries that have the capability of piercing through the ear drum like a pointed needle. That, of course, is accompanied with flailing arms and legs, rolling on the floor and the like, which, I have now come to ignore in the hope that if they don’t get the desired reactions, like anger, from me, then they’d somehow cease to happen. Well, not yet.
So at the end of the day when I lie in bed I say to myself – another day gone and I know that the next day will be the same, because the ingredients are the same, so what will change? What am I waiting for? I don’t know.
What I do know, is that I am not giving up hope yet.
Its a chicken and egg situation – do you leave the child at the age of 3-6 mnths and get back to pursue a career or do you give up on hobbies/career and dedicate yourself to bringing up a child. Its one of the biggest Catch-22 situations for women and no one really has an answer to how to do the perfect balancing act.
If I could have written some words in my blog this morning, I would have just copied your page. I feel as if you read my mind, and said it so elegantly and yet full of truth. My daughter just turned 2 and she is so incredibly clingy at the moment. I don’t believe in giving up my dreams, and life for my children, because then what do I become in their eyes? My relationship to my mother is fantastic, and I cannot remember her spending hours entertaining me. I remember how beautifully she sewed our clothing, cooked and baked cookies. I remember what a great mom she was, and how patient she was. Isn’t that what counts. We can not fill everyone’s shoes? And I am tired of trying. I also have a husband and clients to take care of, and she should know that mommy is not a toy. I don’t think she is better off in daycare.
So hope is believing in something that could be, and finding a way to get there.
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I know exactly how you feel. You will figure it out! 🙂