I thrive when I have things to do. A schedule, something to accomplish, things to check off my mental list. I feel like the most ungrateful person because here I am struggling with the day to day of what do we do next. A summer at home with my kids. We went to the beach yesterday - we are going to the beach today. For someone who likes to move and have places to be it seems more stressful to me than anything else. Especially since in a month some major things are happening. Like my son is going to kindergarten. My daughter is starting preschool. A major volunteer role I'm doing is going to be in full swing.
But for now. The waiting. And the pressure to enjoy every minute. Because this is the last time I have my kids at home without having to have at least one of them at school everyday. I keep thinking about it. And so of course, I decided I'm going to paint their bathroom and the horribly ugly pink claw foot tub another color. All in one day. The other day I organized my 3 year old daughter's room and closet. Yesterday I took all the towels out of the linen closet and folded them based on these beautiful towels I saw folded on Instagram.
I'm really bad at waiting. I'm really bad at living in the moment. So bad, that I was asking a friend yesterday about her life and she looked at me and said her and her family just think in terms of 5 year periods. What?! Within one day I've agonized about all the upcoming days, months, years. Are we always living here? Is my son going to enjoy school? What if there is a bully? What if my son is a bully? What if he learns all sorts of things I don't want him to know? What if he has a hard time making friends?
But for now, I'll be folding towels that are already folded. Because that's easier than sitting in the feelings of how life is changing. And there's really nothing else to distract me from that slowly and quickly approaching fact. When the fact is I need to marinate in that. Because this is motherhood and sometimes there is a season of waiting. There are always seasons of change. Except this time it's just as scary as bringing home a newborn. I have no idea how to be what to do - and how next year will change my boy. But that's the point isn't it? Being a mom is about slowly letting go year by year until your baby is an adult. And I really am raising a man. I really am raising a woman. And like my husband said- I need to chill on the crazy. He's going to be okay. We will figure this new life out just like we did when we gave him his first bath, clipped his nails, and went on our first outing with a baby and his entire wardrobe. And I can be okay even if (when) I do cry on the first day of school.
But for now, I will go to the beach. And I will probably fold some more towels because it makes me feel better and more in control. And when I open the linen closet door and see the organization I'll smile.