It’s been two
months since my last post. And since I’ve
received a complaint from a follower that he’s tired of rereading my September
17th post, I’m motivated to write a new one. My first thought is, Where have the last two months gone? And for most people, the same answer
applies: just day to day “stuff.” The daily (sometimes mind numbingly boring)
details of running a household and parenting four children. A few points of excitement: Lucas broke his arm jumping from the playground
equipment at school, Thomas enrolled in judo, and I took a girls’ Eid holiday
to Istanbul (which ranks as one of my new favorite cities—blog to follow on the
trip soon).
I follow a friend’s
blog on Facebook and he’s an unofficial accountability person, of sorts. I’ve known him for 15 years (that in itself
is an appalling fact), but he’s one of the two people I go to for advice. He’ll happily throw the “bullshit” flag. Think about it, how many friends will give
you the benefit of total honesty? Support
you--yes, but not let you wallow in self-pity when you’re fully capable of
pulling yourself out of the mud. This
much wiser friend writes an incredible blog on happiness and inner truth. The Ministry
of Happiness page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Ministry-of-Happiness/155023134520961. Quite often, I use it as a guide when I need
a little help figuring out what I want, what I can change, what I can live
with, and what will ultimately bring me the most happiness and allow me to be
most at peace. There’s a reason almost
every culture has the adage, “If mama’s not happy. . .”
And as I review
my last post, I'm slightly more encouraged.
I took some time to look at the issues I was unhappy with and tried to
determine whether: a) I could change them b) if I couldn’t change them
immediately, when would I be able to change them (as with most things, I find I
work best with a timeline—perhaps the OCD in me just likes to check off
things?). Regardless, I’ve made a plan.
For starters, I’ve
enrolled in a distance learning program at the University of Georgia in a
reading education program. This will
fulfill the credit hours I need to reinstate my teaching license.
But most
importantly, I’ve taken some steps toward my goal of obtaining a doctorate in
gender studies (the application’s finished, the GRE is scheduled for December 5th). One of the main benefits presented in moving
to Abu Dhabi was the suggestion that I would finally have the opportunity to go
back to school. Although, the idea has
been met with a lukewarm reception. I would
have to take partial blame for that. I work
incredibly hard to make sure my family is comfortable. And understandably, while I pursued a degree
(and afterward, a career—hopefully, in six years, the job market will experience
an upswing); this comfort level would inevitably change. Perhaps that is for the best. Millions of women have returned to the work
force (or never left), and the family unit continues. The family is forced to take on more
responsibility (or rather divide it equally), the children become more
independent, and hopefully everyone is happier, simply because “Mom” has a
fulfilling career that involves something outside the home.
I’ve come to
realize my children will not necessarily appreciate I’ve put off goals
for parenthood. Maybe they will as they
age and maybe it won’t happen until after they become parents and realize how
much is required to keep everything afloat, while madly treading water to
prevent your own drowning. My hope is: they’ll
appreciate the independence they developed, they will admire the strength it
took to start something new and only slightly terrifying, and finally will
emulate the perseverance it takes to finish a task, while having to temporarily
compromise other aspects of your identity.
Yes, my time as an active mother will decrease for a while, but
ultimately, my goals will be met and I’ll have something that I can be excited to wake up to every
morning. To close, I read this quote and
realized, this is what I want—respect for mad courage. Mad courage is what it’s going to take to
keep all these things afloat.
One of the very
few reasons I had any respect for my mother when I was thirteen was because she
would reach into the sink with her bare hands - bare hands - and pick up
that lethal gunk and drop it into the garbage. To top that, I saw her reach
into the wet garbage bag and fish around in there looking for a lost teaspoon. Bare
hands - a kind of mad courage. ~Robert Fulghum
