For many years in my life I've asked myself the question "What's it all about? This thing we call life? Day in. Day out. What's the purpose of it all?"
No one ever seemed had an answer...my best friend and I would discuss this subject at lengths as teenagers through to our 20's. We went over scenerios, things we could do, give away, give up, places to go. To find...what? Ourselves? The meaning of life?
It was always fun to discuss...in an angsty way.
Now, more than ever, there are thousands of books, hundreds of movies, too many television shows that are about the angst of the living...the human yearning, wondering what this so-called life is all about.
Mother's that leave their children. Searching for something else.
Father's that leave their families. Searching for someone else.
Scenes of a Mother standing at the sink, washing dishes, a desolate look on her face, far away eyes, a listlessness to her body.
I was always terrified of having this feeling after having children. Of the feeling of never feeling fulfilled.
There seemed to be such cynicism surrounding the Stay-At-Home Mother role. Yet I knew it was where I was meant to be.
At home, raising my children.
After a brief stint back at work when Adrian was 11 months to 18 months it was time for me to call it quits. I missed him too much. I felt like I was missing so much...and I was due in a couple of months with his brother...or sister. I wanted to soak up every bit of him that I could before our life would, again, change as we knew it.
As much as I can be a fatalist, I am just as much an idealist.
Just as any first mother dreams, I had this romantic fantasy of what being a Mother would bring me.
Morning's lazing in bed with our baby, playing peek-a-boo and this little piggy, plane rides and tickle games, with beatific smiles on our faces as the sun shone upon us through a picturesque window.
I was in for a shock when we brought our beautiful baby boy home. Of-course. I remember us looking down at him in his car seat, minutes after we walked into our small 2 bedroom apartment, looking down at him asleep (finally) and feeling the same way though not voicing what we were feeling. "What now? What the hell now?"
I think all new parents feel that impact, that jolt...those tremors of the world as you once knew it, shaken to its very core.
And then we had another sweet boy. Wow. My world shook like it never had. The beginning was SO DAMN HARD. I can't tell you how hard it felt unless you've been through it yourself.
But in time those tremors subsided and with the lessening of them came waves of relief...sometimes minutes at a time, hours at a time. Days, where I would say to myself, "Yes, I did it. We made it. I'm doing okay. We are doing okay."
There have been moments lately when I've asked myself, "Why am I satisfied when it seems like so many Mother's are unhappy? Why do I feel content in this role? Fulfilled? Should I want more? Should I want to be more? Is there something wrong with me?"
I've finally come to the conclusion that I should feel lucky that I feel this way. Satisfied and happy with my life, raising my children, being home with them, watching them grow, keeping the house clean, organized, cooking dinner, baking with my children, teaching them everything from their ABC's to manners to how be a good person.
This career I call Motherhood? Is kind of a big deal. We are raising human beings...human beings that will grow into adults, make friends, become wives, husbands, have children of their own. And these people they meet, love and grow will have an impact on their's and so on goes the chain of events.
Though there are still moments when I become frustrated, exasperated and stretched beyond all limits I know with a fierce profoundness, that this place in my life, where I reside right now, is exactly where I need, where I must, where I want more than anything to be.
I've finally found my answer.
This is what MY life is all about.
Living and loving presently in each moment. Moments that will never get given to you again.
Cherish your life. LIVE it. LOVE it.