Becoming a Stay at Home Mama - Year One.

One year ago this week, I left my job as a bookstore manager for the last time.

I walked away from the long hours, the never ending cycle of "all that's old is new again," and the constant influx of people who needed, and needed, and needed things from me.

It was scary and terrifying in ways that  I cannot even begin to describe.

For many years I had defined myself and my worth by the successes (or lack of) that I had at work.

I was pretty good at my job.

I heard it from my staff, my peers, and my superiors.

I was the one who knew stuff, and who knew how to get stuff done.

And, then suddenly... I wasn't.

Suddenly all that I had previously used to define myself by was just... gone.

Instead,  I became the full time Mama to two energetic little boys who, prior to this, I had fed and clothed and bathed and loved... but had not really KNOWN.

I'd say we know each other pretty damn well by now.

There have been bumps in the road as the three of us got used to spending our days together.

Nothing has turned out quite like I expected it to.

As a serious Type A, anal retentive control freak, I fully expected by this point to be living in a June Cleaver clean house with Aunt Bea type meals and perfectly behaved little boys who were adorable in their clean tucked in shorts and ever-present suspenders.

Instead, I'm living in a house full of constant crumbs (WHERE DO THEY ALL COME FROM?!?!?!?!) with two sticky but sweet little boys who love to run and yell and throw things and who give their Mama spontaneous hugs as they run by.

Instead of spending our days in quiet, organized, scheduled activities, we kinda roll with the flow.

Sometimes we eat ice cream for lunch.

Sometimes we spend the whole day outside.

Sometimes we watch movies and eat popcorn all day, just because we can.

Occasionally, I yell "Stop punching/hitting/bothering/touching/picking on/licking your brother!" five thousand times.

And there have been a few times that I've gotten so fas as to look at the classified ads to see if maybe, just maybe, there was a little part-time gig I could pick up because oh dear God if I have to play pretend superheroes ONE MORE MINUTE I'm going to stab my left eye out.

But the thought passes quickly.

Because for the first time, maybe ever in my life, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing.

This is me.


Crumbs and superheroes and all.

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