The Short Version:
I wasn’t sure if I was going to have a Word of the Year this year.
But then this word came to me: Teamwork.
It was perfect.
Blogging/writing has become my job, and in accepting that I’m now a Work at Home Mom, I also need to accept that I can’t do it all. I need to do better in involving my children in our overall, day-to-day home management.
The Intro to the Long Version:
I came up with this word on January 1st. It’s now January 14th. The in-my-head version of this post was clear, succinct, and easy-to-write.
However . . . every time I sat down and started typing it up, I got stuck. At least one of those times, I couldn’t even see the screen through my tears.
I know. I was confused too. I could not figure out what was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to be a heart-wrenching post. It was simply about accepting the phase of life I was in, and going from there. It was about how I wasn’t sure exactly what “Teamwork” was going to look like, but how I was going to figure it out by doing it. (Kind of like everything I do around here.)
I talked to Hubby. He was on board, and we held a family meeting. We had FIVE successful Family Kitchen Cleaning Sessions last week . . . but I still couldn’t write the post.
The Long Version:
Sometimes my brain takes a while to process things. I walk away, and eventually have a Lightbulb Moment.
Saturday, I finally figured out what was bothering me about this post.
The problem wasn’t that I had to admit I was in a new phase of life and needed help. I did admit that, and I was okay with it.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to focus on Teamwork. I was excited about that.
I mean, it’s one of those things I’ve always known I needed to do better at . . . .
And then I realized where the tears were coming from.
Accepting a new phase meant the last phase was over.
(Bear with me as I work through this and attempt to explain.)
It’s really not about wishing for the old days of little kids who fit neatly in my lap. It isn’t even about missing the softness of a newborn’s fuzzy head.
By admitting that I’m in a phase of life where I have no choice but to make home management a family affair, I’m admitting that I didn’t succeed at this in my last phase of life.
And that phase of life is over.
I always wanted to be the mom who taught her toddlers to pick up their toys every single night so they would grow up not even realizing there’s another option. (The other option? Clearing a path from the bed to the door.)
I wished I was the mom whose kids automatically took their dishes to the sink because they’d been trained to do that from the time they could walk.
I dreamed of having kids who wiped toothpaste out of the sink, neatly hung towels up after a bath, and didn’t use the shower curtain to dry their hands. Y’know, because their mom was ON IT and teaching them to do these things.
So my tears came from grief. Grief because I didn’t get all this figured out while I was just doing it because it was the right thing to do.
While it was simply because I was an awesome mom.
Now, it’s necessity. Somehow, that doesn’t feel as noble.
Yes. I wish I had done a better job during the last phase, but knowing how quickly that phase flew by inspires me to make the most of this one.
I’ll share tomorrow how it’s been going so far.