My life has changed so dramatically over the past two years that it’s hardly believable that it’s the same person living in my skin.
The only way I can be absolutely sure that it is indeed me is by the fact I still charge into, say, the dining room at lightning speed with a definite purpose and plan—only to be completely unable, when I get there, to remember why I came. Thirty minutes later when I need the pewter water pitcher, I remember why it was I was charging into the dining room. Those are the moments I’m most sure that the essence of who I am is the same. Pathetic, I know. Otherwise it seems to all have changed.I no longer dress up everyday and leave the house in a whirlwind to do something ‘important’—-like treat hypertension and gout. I no longer have people to help me live my life, like a nanny (I miss you Kimmy) and a pool guy and a cleaning lady and a nurse. It’s just lil’ ole me, my children and husband, my house, and my laptop, wearing lounge pants all day and making enough homeade bread to feed the five thousand. I feel like I’m in a permanent state of ‘hunkered down’, which reminds me of the time I photographed all my children doing their best ‘hunker down’ pose
. I love that phrase and I loved even better their attempts to humor me.
So, in a nutshell, I quit working, started homeschooling, became Lutheran, and started blogging.
All things that might make your average Southern neighbor look at you with the same disdain as if you had just said you were giving up coloring your hair and would soon be leaving for a Star Trek convention followed by a move to Waco Texas to live in a commune.I’ve got no lies to tell, it ain’t been easy.
People understand a real job in which you must first get dressed and then go do a pap’s smear. People do not understand a job which has no dress code, requires that you rarely leave your house, and in which your fifty favorite ‘coworkers’ live in your computer. To make matters worse, you find yourself involved in online Christmas tours and virtual cookie exchanges. Imagine my chagrin when I’m trying to explain to my friend Donia why I won’t be here for the first day or two when she comes into town because I’ll be at a blogging convention. I said it quiet like that and then had to repeat myself. Seven times. It didn’t go well. For her or me. I wrote about Donia here and she’s a truetolife-wonderful friend-tease the %$#@ out of ya for going to your Star Trek convention- kinda of a girl.
It’s moments like that when I want to call some real friend and go out for real, highly caffeinated coffee and eat a real cookies and……*talk*. And talk and talk and talk. Instead of type…and type….and type. And I would do that, except my girls and I are attached at the hip and I’ve got bread to bake and teenagers to mold into decent adults and presents to wrap——and well, a lot of typing and hunkering down to do.
This has been an exciting blogging week for me because of this
and even if many people don’t ‘get’ it, I love my new life. I love my new ‘job’ and I love my new ‘coworkers’ and I love my favorite new hobby. So don’t worry about me yet. My hair is blonder than ever (dangerously resembling trailer trash blond) and I’m just as wowed by all the new colors at MAC as always. It’s still me in here, heavy on the eye makeup, lip gloss and feathered bangs, learning to live in the delicate balance that exists between mom-and-teacher, friend-and-lover, saint-and-sinner, and real.live.human-and-blogger.
And as always, the incredible man that I share my life with seems to ‘get’ me. Even the new/less glamorous/bookworm/computer geek/ever-so-slightly-heavier me.
And I love that about him.
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