When Husband was talking to me earlier this week and called me “well-accomplished,” I was really flattered, but struck by the tense of the word. No one ever calls someone “well-accomplishing” - it’s always in the past tense.
That’s exactly how I feel. Acomplished. I’m really proud of what I did. But now… well, I don’t do much of anything. (And yes, I KNOW being a mom isn’t nothing, but really, compared to how hard I worked my butt off for the first 26 years of my life, I kind of feel like I’m on some weird vacation.)
I’m finally coming to terms with it all.
Back in grad school I was dating this uberloser who told me I was selfish for getting a masters, because I should be focusing on preparing to be a mom.
Yeah… I think I swallowed my gum.
I was so hurt and confused. Selfish?? What I was doing was REALLY HARD. I knew plenty of people my age who weren’t doing anything nearly as difficult (him included - he was a waiter. I sure could pick ‘em) and I knew full well I could give up right then and drop out. I already had my college degree, I didn’t have to do it. I didn’t even really want to - it was the worst 2 years of my life.
I was doing it for my kids. I didn’t know if I would ever get married, or if I’d ever be a mom, but I knew that when my dad was laid-off when I was a girl, my mom had the education to step in and get a job good enough to keep our family afloat. I knew an undergraduate degree in violin performance wouldn’t do much in the world - there are gazzillions of people out there who play far better than me - but if I got a masters, I knew I would have the ability to get jobs that could keep me and a potential family financially taken care of.
I also wanted a graduate degree for my theoretical daughter. I respect my mom for her insane work ethic, her brilliant mind and all she’s been able to do with her degrees. I wanted my daughter to look at what I’d done and know she was capable of doing the same thing.
I tried telling the moron that, but instead he dumped me. Thank heavens.
So I graduated, got this crazy demanding job across the country, had a whirlwind romance and got married, joined a band, recorded an album, quit the job and became so in demand as a private teacher I had to stop answering my phone so I wouldn’t have to turn any more people down.
Then, there was this crossroads… stay in Atlanta and try to keep doing what we were doing, or take this insane leap and move to Brasil to make a huge gamble at furthering Husband’s career, while giving up mine.
As I sat in the airplane about to take off, 8 months pregnant, I suddenly realized I’d left my phone in the airport. I knew it wouldn’t work in Brasil, but I frantically ran to the front of the plane to see if anyone could get it for me. It was gone. I sat in my seat sobbing. The last piece of my former life - the cell phone that rang incessantly with gig offers and students - was gone. I felt… empty. Completely disoriented. I had nothing left but my husband at my side and the luggage we were carrying.
Nothing has ever been the same since that moment. I became a mom and went through that storm, then returned to the states a different person. I was now completely dependent on my Husband, and I was a full-time mom. I’d never in my life considered that I’d ever be a full-time mom, but now there was no other option. I got back into gigging and teaching, but it wasn’t the same, and 2 years later I found myself leaving it all behind again.
As I sat in the car driving away from Atlanta last summer, I felt something similar to that dark moment in the airplane. I again had given up things that I’d built for this unit we’d created, this family. It was still insanely painful, but I didn’t feel as disoriented. I had this little girl in the seat behind me, a new life in my tummy, and a Husband who loved me and knew - and appreciated at the deepest level - what I’d given up. That he appreciates it… that makes all the difference.
And now, I feel… accomplished. Past tense. I go through every day by the skin of my teeth because I have no idea what I’m doing. I know most of us are. I don’t do the one thing I actually know how to do. I literally can’t - the Dude is a freaking tank and carrying him around has made my arms hurt so much that I can only play my violin for a little while before my muscles demand I cut it out.
I feel like the jury is still out on what I’m accomplishing now. What I accomplished in my former life took about 26 years, so I shouldn’t expect results for this new life after only 3.
But I’m okay. I know I made my decision. It was me or us, and I chose us. I’m just so deeply thankful that I did accomplish so much before I became a mom. Because when things get hard, and they do every freaking day, I know I can do it, because I’ve done HARD, and I can do it again. It makes me feel like I’m worth something. I have a friend whose knowledge of her worth comes from the fact that she delivered 3 babies naturally. Every day when she feels overwhelmed with the life she has with 3 little boys, she reminds herself that she knows hard. She can do this. Boo-ya. As for me, I’ve got my masters and epidurals.
And thanks Mom and Sanny, if you’re reading this. You are the reason anything got accomplished.
……
So that’s for my last gasp of verbosity this week. Hope I haven’t bored anyone, I’m back to attempting to be all snarky-like next week. I’ve been feeling isolated (duh) and I needed to have someone listen to all the crazy swimming around in my head. And y’all are the best listeners in the world. Thank you, thank you for all the comments and compliments and commiserating. I am the luckiest bloggerist there is!!!
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