This year has absolutely flown by. It’s crazy to think in a few weeks, Kevin and I will be celebrating our wedding anniversary. It seems like it was both a million years ago and just yesterday. Our pictures are held captive in a box and on the tower, which are both still in the basement. One of the first orders of business once we regain access is to make a photo album of some kind…. and maybe get a print of a picture for the house.
Anyway, that’s just some surface stuff and not really why I decided to sit down at the keyboard today.
I got woken up last night, both by my husband (in a loving kind of way) and by Girl Child (in the annoying, I hate this, kind of way). I’ve had a very long week at work, am sore, and was really in need of that solid night’s sleep… I woke up tired, feeling a little sick (which generally comes with the territory of broken sleep for me), but I also felt… good.
I’ve kept a journal for as long as I can remember. I’ve filled pages and pages and pages… When online journaling became a thing, I just wrote and wrote and wrote. I even printed out my entries (about two reams worth). So many trees died at my expense. It’s been a way to work things out and hold myself accountable.
At one point I named my journals “Scuba Gear” and began developing it in to an acronym. Each letter stood for a word that meant something to me; something that I wanted to focus on, personally. Now, these journals are currently along with the rest of my stuff (being contained in the basement), but I know when I open the cover of Scuba Gear II (which has part of a monologue from Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House written on the cover) that I’ll find a brown napkin in the front of the book. It’s folded at a weird angle. And it has writing on it from decades ago.
That napkin has a list. It has a list of things that I wanted to accomplish in my life. Every few years, I’ll rewrite that list… A goal list. I’ve never had the desire to remove any of those goals. There were always a few that stood out and I’ve had my heart on for the longest time.
As I grew older, I would see the people around me achieving things that I hoped to achieve. They were living lives that I dreamed of: having a loving, supportive spouse; having a home of their own; traveling the world; and getting degrees/accolades in their professions… and I would sit back and go “When will that be me? What else do I have to do to get that in my life??” And the pain was real. It was so incredibly real.
There are a number of people I’ve reached out to over the years asking them – how did you get that? How did you get that kind of relationship? How were you able to by a house so young? How, how, how.
Around 845 tonight, Girl Child came up to me smiling and said, “Sleep, Mommy. I want to go bed sleep, Mommy.” I said “ok, go brush your teeth first and you can go to bed. Thanks for telling me.” She happily skipped to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and went to her room. I tucked her in, said good night and went to the living room. I let Boy Child stay up an extra half hour or so to watch some of The Office.
We just sat in the living room, dogs sleeping, watching The Office.
We were sitting on the new furniture that was delivered this morning that Kevin and I picked out last weekend, watching The Office on a tv stand we bought in the morning and put together this afternoon. We filled the stand with our video game systems and things this evening.
It started to sink in: I’m sitting on my own furniture in my home with my children and dogs.
The one thing I wanted so badly for so many years was to be in a home of my own. To be responsible to myself, to be the parent and person that I have wanted to be. To live as independently as I wanted to be. I wanted to live my life, make my own decisions without having to run them by any one. Which, don’t get me wrong, I talk things over with my Husband, but it doesn’t feel like… a chore. It doesn’t feel like I’m put out in some way. I can exist in this space the way I want to exist.
It’s been a much slower and somewhat painful process to turn this house in to our home. We are no where near done yet, but with each little success it becomes more and more a reality…
I finally did it. I have a home of my own. I have my own furniture that I picked out. And I got to choose what I wanted not out of necessity but because I LIKE it and that’s what I WANT in my home.
I put Boy Child to bed and as I was walking out of his room, he said, “I love you, Mom.” And I said, “I love you too, bud. I’ll see you in the morning.” I closed the door and just paused. I looked around the living room and slowly walked down the hallway towards my bedroom. I was just taking it all in.
This is an accomplishment that means more than anything else I have done in my life to this point. And I think that’s saying a lot because I’ve done some pretty amazing things. Sometimes when I talk about things, it feels like I’m talking about a different person because I can’t believe I’ve had such good fortune in some regards.
But it’s all led to here.
All of it.
All of those years of work and pushing and not being satisfied or complacent and I mean… It’s nothing crazy. I’m not some high-powered executive making a ridiculous salary living in a giant home, jet-setting the world or anything.
But I am married, to a really wonderful human being who supports me in all my shenanigans and takes care of me when my crappy body craps out on me. I have two really great kids, even though one sleeps like a jack-hole some times and the other can be the world’s worst child but I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I have a very modest home that has enough space for everyone to exist peacefully, soon to be displaying art made by people we love and provide opportunities for creativity. I have a really great job that I love, where I know I’m legitimately supported and have room to grow personally and professionally.
I’ve been able to cross off all but two things on that list and those last two are extremely obtainable: travel to foreign countries and obtain a PhD.
And, to be honest, right now? I’m so… content. For over a decade, I’ve been pushing and pushing and pushing; working so diligently to achieve my goals and now that pretty much everything has been crossed off… I feel like I can breathe and exist. I can continue to work on making my house a home. Creating the haven I’ve desired. Kevin and I can travel to figure out where the next best place is for Doods to exist as an adult. We can just… be.
So, even though I am ridiculously tired, my head is throbbing, my joints are screaming, my eyes are dry… I honestly can say that I wouldn’t change it. I still feel good.
I’m home.
Thanks for stopping by.
I am glad you exist.
Somewhat Functional 