New Reality

I read this blog post that resonated with me.  I'm in the same place.  I also don't know what I'm doing.

I'm on the cusp (past the cusp?) of a new frontier of motherhood.  It's uncomfortable.  The tag itches.  I want to go back.

A few years ago, we homeschooled.  I was wrapped up in children all day long.  We could pick up and go to London, Lake Chelan, Disneyland.  Our schedules were our own.

Now our children (two out of three) are in school.  They are busy.  The intensity of my days has shifted from zealous mornings of twirling around the school room, teaching children to frenetic after school hours when we're hurtling from one things to the next.

And I try very hard not to overschedule.

I do.

We're leaving town later this month and Braeden will miss a track meet and a band festival.

Emma will miss a volleyball game.

Mark will miss the Pinewood Derby.

They'll all miss piano lessons and church activities.

And I miss the days when we could leave guilt free.

And all this busy-ness business?  It would be one thing if it were humanly possible but sometimes it isn't.  Where we live, we're oriented in two directions--school one way, church another.  I was talking about it to Janet and Stephanie who have older kids.  I expressed my dismay at the unfeasible scheduling dilemmas that occur.

Yep.  Welcome to their world.

These pangs of being unhappily in over my head, feel familiar.  It reminds me of when I became a mother in the first place.  I realized that there was no going back.  There was a new reality and I'd better get used to it.  Sink or swim.

And I did get used to it.  It became normal.  And once all the kids could put their own shoes on and sleep through the night, it could be downright lovely.

So I expect this to be the new normal.  I'll get used to children heading off in different directions.  I'll get used to nights when dinner is in shifts or at a drive-thru.  I'll maybe even get to the point that I can handle the scheduling with panache rather than panic (here's hoping).

But here's what has me depressed.  (I never said this would be an upbeat post.)

The next stage.

The one after this one.

The one where they leave.

So I'll enjoy the muddy socks (What did I expect from track practice in the Pacific Northwest?), colliding plans, endless forms to fill out and checks to write while I have them.

Because time keeps marching on.