Have you ever had those moments when you wish there was an button that allowed you the option to see snapshots of your life? Kind of like the scene selection page on a DVD menu. You see a screen shot of what's happening periodically from beginning to end. You don't really get to see the whole picture, but you have some idea of what may happen.
I feel that way right now. I wish I had a magical remote that tuned into my life menu and allowed me to see where this all is headed. I would love a little guidance on what paths to take. When will we finally decide to have our second child? What will the gender be? Will Michael stay in the military or choose to take a different career opportunity? What the hell career am I going to have? Will I ever use my hard-earned degree or will life lead me in a different direction altogether?
I know life is all about choices. I get that. I know life is suppose to be "about the ride" and that I should just enjoy it. I get that too. And I'm trying.
What I don't get is how this hyper-planner is suppose to handle this big, empty abyss that I'm staring into. I talked a little about how life seems to be at a standstill before, and it hasn't gotten any better. The problem isn't that I don't like where my life is right now. The problem is that I don't know where it's heading--I have absolutely zero idea--and that thought scares me senseless.
I know I'm not the only wife or mother or person in general to feel conflicted about the things I want in life. I want children and to me, that means devoting myself to their care in the early years. Children are only little for such a short time, and I don't want to miss any of it. But I know being a domestic engineer isn't the only thing in the world for me. And sometimes I feel this unbearable itch to get out there and make my mark. Even when I know the biggest, most important mark I could ever make in this world is raising awesome kids into awesome people. Children are our future.
I guess all I'm saying is...the future is scary. And when you have no idea what it holds? It's absolutely, nightmare-quality terrifying. When you're a mega-planner like me, that's a hard pill to swallow. And it keeps me up at night. Because I want to be the best person I can be, and when I have no idea who that person is? Well, that's tricky.
I'm not Super Mom. I'm not Susie Homemaker--though sometimes we're great pals. I'm not perfect. I'm just me.
I'm just trying to figure out what that means.