Desperate Housewife

Let me preface this late-night stream of consciousness by admitting that I am sometimes often just a wee bit sarcastic.  At times, it is a protective measure.  At times, it is for comic relief.  At times, it's just plain how I feel.

On to today's revelation...My running joke since The Husband changed careers to become a fancy-schmancy international man-of-power (grin) and I *chose* (highlighted to remind myself of said choice) to take the afore-mentioned *planned sabbatical* from my career (eloquently phrased to make me feel more productive about my days spent convincing small people that the independence found from utilizing indoor plumbing really is a wondrous thing) has been that I began my new identity as a Desperate Housewife.

From directing meetings, fielding requests for expertise and delivering high profile corporate projects, I now manage one of the most challenging customer service environments, responding to simultaneous urgent and often irrational requests and ensuring that, though the customer is not always happy, he does benefit.  I run a busy haute cuisine restaurant serving hungry patrons with high expectations.  I am a logistics guru, directing a large just-in-time inventory with quickly changing needs and frequent warehouse relocations.  I am an Expert Subject Matter Expert, managing a greatly expanded volume of requests and range of topics.  I am a human Google.

What a leap up the ladder, eh?  In many ways, yes...yes, it was.  (As an added bonus, I think I just edited my resume!)

As I utilized tonight's after-wee-ones'-bedtime quiet to prepare the uniform service for business this week (OK, I was doing the laundry), I indulged in a guilty pleasure...Desperate Housewives.  Don't judge.  It's good stuff.  (And, yes, I am a day late viewing it, but why not take advantage of the ability to feed one's I Want It When I Want It entitlement complex?)

If you happen to not be sucked into the stiletto-ed, coifed, Suzy-Homemaker-with-a-secret drama, the main point to know is that despite the oversized characters which create the entertainment, Wisteria Lane holds - at least a little - something reminiscent of many women.  

A brief synopsis...Lynette found herself in an unexpected Wife-ly situation when she accompanied her husband, Tom, to a big hitter leadership conference...as his +1.  An educated, formerly successful professional woman turned stay-at-home-mom, she leapt (repeat: leapt) at the chance to engage in intellectual discussions that had nothing to do with dirty diapers, homework or dishes.  She soon realized, however, that she was afforded no place there.  In that world, she was ONLY a wife, as in she did not possess the capacity to have a single intelligent thought.  She had nothing of value to contribute.  She was to be a Lady Who Lunched and revel at her ability to be seen and not heard.  

Lynette did not go down without a fight.

Thankfully, The Husband's industry has evolved (ever so slightly) from its Donna Reed / June Cleave expectations of wives.  The Husband's promotions are not dependent upon the popularity of my hors d'oeuvres (although, I can throw a mean cocktail party) or how silently I don an apron.  But, I certainly found myself (not so quietly) cheering Lynette's brazen lashings out against "the system."  

Yes, I am a stay-at-home-mom...An SAHM, according to the lingo.  I make sure there are meals on the table and clothes in the dressers.  I am a teacher, doctor, mediator.  On any given day, I may be a monster, space alien, airplane pilot, builder-of-forts, snowman creator, and, oh yeah...wife.  

I admit, that is pretty darn good (even on the pretty darn bad days).  But, I am more than that.  I *do* have something to say.  It *used* to be somewhat intellectual.  I am fighting hard to not lose that.

Balance

Balance, I say??  Yes, Balance...*Something* that makes me feel like a womanly-woman, a smart woman, a woman who can compose a coherent thought (and express it completely without interruption and before it is lost in the depths of the abyss that has become too much of my brain), a confident woman, an ambitious woman, a woman who is going somewhere, a woman who can still remember her professional self from what seems like so many lifetimes ago.

Balance...

Can only be achieved when one grasps at it.  *I* have not grasped for over three months.  I began this blog with such excitement and filled with ideas and hope that I wasn't the only woman who was foolish enough to think she could maintain a sense of self independent from the role of Mommy and Trailing Spouse.

The morning after my inaugural post, my family welcomed our newest babe to the world...And Mommy has been in full force since.  I've been down this road before, though, and I have quite a good system in place (if I do say so, myself!).  Life really isn't that hard with one extra wee one, even if all three have yet to begin school and believe me to be the single source of food, an encyclopedia and entertainer.

So, what is my excuse?  Why the long silence in what I hoped would be my outlet to remain sane?

I have become unmotivated, afraid and easily discouraged.

In the past six years, I have struggled with a "planned" sabbatical from work (I highlight "planned" because although I chose to take time away, I had no idea what that actually entailed), the death of my daughter (and the forever-changed outlook on life, myself and my abilities), international moves which took me far from friends, family and most of my personal belongings yet offered the most amazing experiences I have ever had, and a significantly different persona than I expected to have at this point in my life.

I truly am thankful to have the opportunity to be home with my children during their youngest years.  It is exactly that, in reality...An opportunity.  My family is fortunate that this can be a choice rather than a necessity.  I *could* have worked during our time abroad, despite the challenges of navigating a new environment.  I *could* have stopped whining long enough to summon the courage I once had.  And, I *did* find things to do outside of the house, projects that required me to ~ gasp ~ make sure I was put together enough to not leave with baby drool on my shoulder or a dryer sheet hanging off my trousers.

Overall, though, I valued the option of staying home more than attempting to overcome the fear that had crept into my mind.  I wanted (and still do) my days, my life, to be on my own terms.

What is so wrong with that?  The answer, I suppose, is that life doesn't always obey.

If I am completely honest with myself, I can admit that I feel unmotivated, afraid and easily discouraged.  These are not qualities I like.  These are not adjectives which would have described me previously.  I have let life's challenges get the better of me, in some respect.  I have been in upheaval / transition / grieving / left-my-career-to-support-my-husband's-and-therefore-am-unequal / Mommy mode for so long that I barely remember the person I used to be.  And, I don't necessarily like the person I have become.

I have many half-completed posts waiting for the flow of creative juices to come.  I have thought about and even began to form my ideas many times in the past few months, but each time I have walked away thinking there is some chore that should be done or (shamefully) wasting time, questioning the point of writing such ideas.

But, the reason I began this blog was to serve as an outlet for what remains of and to further cultivate my former professional self.  And, that means that even if I am the only one to read these words, that is reason enough.

So, once more, I commit to facing that fear and kicking myself in the arse to do something about that which I complain!

If, by chance, anyone *is* reading this, please feel free to kick me as well.  (grin)