I’ve been having trouble writing this post. The words are gummy like pieces of chalk left out in the rain. Instead of making pictures, they just smear.
But I’ve been talking about difficult things lately, so I thought I would share another struggle.
I’m wanting to spend less time with my kids.
This may not seem revolutionary or crazy to you. In fact, as I write it, it doesn’t really seem that revolutionary.
Parents want different things.
But it’s been kind of a bone-rattler.
It’s not because I don’t love them. It’s more that I miss that adult part of myself, not the part that fills out loan modification paperwork, but the part that works on a project, turns a deliverable in, and gets a “thanks” or “good job” in response.
Praise that’s not related to being a parent.
When things are out-of-sync for me, I get emotional. I feel trapped against a wall, a wall that my thoughts slam against, breaking to pieces. When I’m with my kids 100% of the time, that wall gets built higher like a Tetris board with no rows filled in.
To clear the board I’m opening myself to more projects.
It’s been rattling my bones because in the back of my mind I have always seen myself as a full-time mom. My mom started staying home when I was twelve and it was a game-changer. Home turned into a sacred space, and loved it.
But now it’s my turn and I’m finding that my balance is different. I need time to write and edit at a coffee shop with a babysitter at home.
I’m happier for it. And I’m a better parent.
The hard part has been being open to what I need. It’s scary to shift the things that I always thought would be best for my family. And it’s scary to say that rather than spending more time with K-Pants during this transitional, emotional time for him, I’m going to spend less.
But I thought I would be honest and let you know, and not just pretend that each day over here is filled with another wild, sarcastic adventure.