When did I become a married pregnant lady, living in Pensacola, Florida?
I spent an hour last night trying to decide which advent calendar to purchase. Which one will be neutral enough to match the changing decor of our home? What would we put in it? Drawers or doors? It seemed so important at the time. Later, as I was falling asleep I realized how absurd my life has become. How soft serve vanilla everyday is. My husband lets me sleep in as he drives off to work his 12 hour shift. He takes out the garbage when he gets home and mows the lawn on Saturdays. I spend my time crafting or surfing the internet or, well, sleeping. I’m comfortable, and happy, and consequently, not stretching myself very far.
I remember days when I would wake up and the only thought that got me out of bed was that once I taught high school, and supervised after-school technical theater, and had my shift waiting tables at Red Robin, I could come home and go back to sleep. I miss those days.
I miss the days in San Diego when I would spend a Saturday afternoon walking to the library and through downtown so that I could use the internet since I didn’t want to pay for it in my apartment.
I miss the angst/hope/determination I would feel for unrequited/unresolved love.
I miss getting lost in a painting- forgetting to eat, and putting off sleep- sometimes in response to a deadline, and sometimes because I was overpowered.
I miss the hope that permeated my simple existence, the drive that motivated me to keep working hard so that my circumstances would change.
This was not the change that I had expected. I am not complaining. I’m grateful for my comfort and safety and peace. Garth, the husband, has brought a calm into my life that didn’t exist before, and it’s been so soothing that I have been coasting along with it, dreamily folding laundry and staying in my pajamas all day. It is now time for me to wake up. It is time for me to stretch myself once again, feel some growing pains, and experience the joy of hard work. My goodness I love this world and the opportunities it affords. The dormant parts of me: the painter, the art teacher, the traveler, the girl who takes long walks- they are about to be woken up again. They are about to shed their years pajamas and meet me in a sunny place. Oh the days that are ahead of us!
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It’s funny how quickly life can become mundane. Just wait for baby to come along and you get to add feeding, changing diapers, rocking…all of those fun things…and yes, some days, you’ll still be in your pajamas all day.