I started this blog one year ago today. It was a birthday present to myself because I was lonely and completely overwhelmed by the pandemic, and work-at-home motherhood. I felt like I had no time to myself, and no time to be myself, and I was drowning because of it.
For ten years, teaching had been my creative outlet. It allowed me to imagine, play and perform on a daily basis. I truly loved lesson planning, and the process of trying to puzzle out how I could possibly make learning prepositions, or reading Jekyll and Hyde engaging and entertaining for 12-year-olds who also had access to Instagram and TikTok…
But teaching from home really killed that joy for me. The weeks between the shutdown in March of 2020, and when I started this blog in May, were long and exhausting. I was teaching, but not in the way that brought me joy. And I was momming, but in a truly half-a**ed way that made me really take pause and reevaluate what mattered, and what didn’t.
I was incredibly privileged to be able to make the decision, at the end of the 2019-2020 school year, to take a break from teaching. I was uncertain about what the next year would look like, so I decided to put my family, and my mental health, first.
When I reflect on who I was before the pandemic, I know that “she” would never have made that choice. For my whole life, I put pressure on myself to “do something important.” I worked my butt off in school, and in Teach for America, and at the various jobs that followed. At 27, I went back to school for my Master’s degree, as well as another credential. I told myself that I needed these degrees, just like I needed to go into school administration one day.
But, to be honest, I hated a lot about my credential program. About 1 year (and thousands of dollars) in, I realized that being in administration would mean spending 90% of my time on the 2% of things I hated about teaching. Yet despite the obvious fact that I didn’t really want to be a principal one day, I kept going. Part of me stayed because I genuinely enjoy school, and I wanted to keep learning, but another part of me–a pretty big part–stayed because it’s what I thought I “should” do.
There have been many moments during the past year–like last week, for example, when I found myself chasing the dog around the backyard, screaming at her to drop the toddler’s poopy diaper–during which I have wondered what in the heck I am doing with my life. I have pictured the account statements I received in the mail every quarter that I was enrolled in graduate school, the late nights I spent at the library in college, and the countless hours I clocked at the Starbucks on Melrose, sipping a latte I could barely afford while lesson planning for my very first job. And now, after all that work, I spend every morning dancing to Raffi in my pajamas before loading the kids into our brand-spanking-new minivan and heading to the park.
But the greatest blessing of this year has been that, for the first time in my life, I don’t really care about whether it was “worth it,” or even what comes next. I have finally realized that just because I put effort into something, or had different priorities in the past, doesn’t mean it’s a “waste” to leave those things behind, and move on to something new.
The effort I put into my schoolwork, and my jobs, and everything else I did during that “other” part of my life made me who I am today. It made me realize what I like, and what I don’t. What I’m good at, and where I should probably pass the baton. It made me realize that it’s OK to pivot, and that pretty much everything in life is a sunk cost–something you can learn from, and appreciate, but don’t need to spend too much time dwelling on.
This year, on the eve of my 33rd birthday, I am happy to report that I have ZERO, actionable goals for the year ahead. I am so incredibly lucky to be doing the job of motherhood, and am grateful that it’s one you can’t really study, or prepare for. Like all parents, I’m learning on the job, and am finally starting to appreciate that journey for what it is.
While I don’t have much free time anymore (I’m not sure I really did before either…) I have truly enjoyed refocusing my creative energy on writing, reading, and connecting with you all on the internet. Every time I “meet” someone new on this platform, I feel inspired to try something new, or challenge myself in some way. I have home projects I plan to tackle for the first time, cooking endeavors I’m excited to begin, new art projects and homeschooling activities up my sleeve, and, of course, a whole bunch of new books on my TBR.
For the first time in my life, my once rigidly forward-thinking self has learned to care a little less about the things that don’t fill me up, and a little more about the ones that do–regardless of whether they’re “important,” or where they’ll take me long-term.
So, I guess this is a thank you, to anyone who has ever read my blog (or even pretended to), for coming along for the ride with me. But it’s also a thank-you to myself, and to this very weird year, for allowing me to welcome change into my life, and learn to find happiness exactly where I am.
Some Favorites From This Year:
