That's me, last Saturday, in the Carhartt hoodie concealing Louie from the elements as we casually walk the property of a local farm which also happens to be the site of a preservation initiative. I'm committing to a new painting due in two months. It took some mental restraint before I finally talked myself into it. Much like this new blog, "Just do it Jing, no boring excuses, I won't listen to it."
My husband claims responsibility for pushing me to do more with myself. I can be an immovable force sometimes. It really drives him nuts and I think its funny. We have a great relationship. For all the tasks that I can complete in one day it never feels like it's enough. Something I'm sure many mothers can relate to. Even now, both boys are napping, dinner is prepped, hands-free pumps are strapped on and I still think somehow I can be doing something else to boost my productivity. Of course I'm lumping things like remembering to drink my imaginary quota of water into that elusive checklist.
My mind wanders constantly these days. Maybe it's because I can't vocalize my mind to a baby and a toddler and expect any sort of practical advise or inspirational affirmations in return. My mind is a private temple for which there are no decodable scriptures to follow. My kids are the kites flying far above, taunting me as I earnestly pray for revelation. But I digress. One thought that returns to mind more and more these days is going back to work. I know other mothers return to work within a couple months of giving birth. How do they do it? Their children must be suffering from separation anxiety and whoever is watching them is surely neglecting all the delicate nuances of child development. Even my own sister-in-law who is a special education teacher went back right away and left her baby with the grandparents. That thought frightens me to no end.
I haven't had a proper job since I moved to upstate New York. By that I mean I have worked in several but none that would be considered career worthy. I started off by volunteering which was okay. I worked for two weeks in a cabinet making shop. My boss was a terribly self-effacing skinny man who did not offer much stimulation to my workday. I babysat for an Indian woman and her two boys while she was home. That was awkward and didn't last long either. She quit her job working for her father and I was all of a sudden not in the budget anymore. Then I found a job in retail. An independent "female-owned" kitchen store which also offered occasional cooking classes. While I scored countless kitchen gadgets and gifts for friends and family, that was also just okay in the end. Let's face it, there was no future there unless I planned to take over or start a competitive store of my own. I eventually phased out this job to help my husband start his own ice cream stand. I won't say it was a rush job but if he had had other options at the time we might not have gone into it and we wouldn't be trying to unload it now. I won't even go into the multitude of jobs I've worked before leaving Connecticut. We can save that for another post.
Now here I am with no gaps in my resume but no clear direction of what job to look for next either. When people used to ask me what I want to do, I would raise my hands and pantomime motions that reminded me at least of a tinkerer or artisan model maker. Working with my hands is what I seem to excel in. Be it making art, cooking, crafting, basically anything that requires fine motor skills is something I want to try.
Both boys are up again and that means I've shared enough for now. I promise I hate talking about myself and there will be plenty of subjects contrary to this first post to come in the days ahead. Bye!
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