Worries

I haven't written anything in a while. It's not for lack of ideas or lack of time, but lack of motivation. I don't know why I don't feel like writing. Everything you hear about writers is that you should just write, no matter what. So, that's what I'm doing. I'm writing.

I have no idea where this is going. I only have about 15 minutes before I have to start my day. I'm excited for Thanksgiving coming up and starting to get overwhelmed by Christmas shopping. There are a few people I just can't come up with gift ideas for. Hopefully, I'll stumble across something that will be appropriate.

I haven't been teaching lately, and I miss it. It can be stressful going into a new school/classroom each time, but when I do it regularly, I get a rhythm and routine down. I still don't know if I'd be able to do it every day. That's what I wrestle with right now. I need to figure out my career goals, because right now I'm just going to a job. I feel like I've been coasting for a year now and I'm tired of it. I'm ready for some ambition and growth, but at the same time, I think I'm a little afraid of it.

It's time to be a grown-up, though, and get on my own. I'm not as broken as I was at this time last year, but, there's that fear again. My current salary is JUST enough to get us out on our own, but any little thing out of the norm would be a huge challenge. I know I should wait just a bit longer to adjust my income situation, but I feel like I've been waiting too long already.

It's freeing to not have to make decisions based on what anyone else wants, but it's scary when you don't have someone to run those ideas through. Sure, friends and family can offer advice, but they're not going through it with you-they will perpetually see the situation from the outside. Although, I don't miss being "mom" to a grown man. Even though there was help in the decisions, ultimately, I made them and dealt with the fallout if they were bad. Successful choices were always met with a joint celebration...oh well.

Time to start my day. Guess this is why I've had a hard time writing-there's a lot on my mind. I've got to get my worries in order and maybe then I'll feel like writing again!!

Stolen Moments

            I watch him as he animatedly tells me a story. His whole body is in motion as he details the day. I barely comprehend his words, though, because I am so busy watching this person that I barely recognize. There is no baby fat, no chubby curves, no soft roundness that I am used to. I see his long neck and thin arms. His face is all angles and points. Even his nose, which used to be a cute little button, is starting to protrude like mine; drawing to a point in the middle of his face.

            This person who used to be my baby is no longer a baby. I can’t see him as a toddler any more, and very quickly he’s losing all his little boy physical traits. He still has that precious innocence, and unending energy, but as I look at his coltish body and long, skinny limbs, I am reminded, once again, that this time I have with him is fleeting. I can love him with every fiber of my being, but no matter what I do, he will grow and eventually leave me.

            This, of course, is the ultimate goal. Make this beautiful child into the type of man that should be turned loose on the world to help make it a better place. Teach him to be the type of man that is a good friend, partner, employee, and human being. I’m just not ready to go there yet. I have a few years before he flies from my nest, but in moments like this, I realize just how short our time together is, in this beautiful journey we call life. Eighteen years feels interminable on some days (I’ll probably have a post like that one tomorrow!), but on others, I realize just how few minutes are actually contained in those short years.

            I am still his favorite person in the world. I even still manage to prod him into sitting on my lap occasionally; but like last night, after the long holiday weekend and too much Halloween candy, I realize that someday soon, he will be too big to fit. Someday in the near future, I won’t be the person he chooses to spend all his time with. He won’t voluntarily tell me his secrets, he may not even want to tell me what he had for lunch. He won’t tell me about the person he finds special and he won’t tell me about how he’s been hurt by a careless word spoken by a friend. Soon, he won’t be all mine any more.

            The story continues. He and his friends were pretending to be dinosaurs at recess. One of the boys was a mean one, and kept trying to scratch the other kids. I am brought back to his innocence and reminded that the days are numbered, but for now, they are still marching on. For today, at least, he is still my little boy and I can have him for just a little longer. Maybe I can even get him to snuggle on my lap.