I am developing a whole new appreciation for weekends. 

And naps.  And watching movies.  And long runs.

Going back to work has been hard. 

But not in the ways I thought it would be.

I’m not going to lie—I hate losing the flexibility of being at home.  And for the past two weeks, I’ve hated having to shuffle my kids between sitters and friends and grandmothers.  (I hope that with the start of their new school year, we’ll be able to settle into a more normal rhythm.)  And 6:00 a.m. rolls around a lot earlier than it used to.  I am freakin’ exhausted.

But I think those things are going to improve with time and adjustment.  You know me—I’ve never been a big fan of CHANGE.  In fact, I often avoid it if at all possible.  But I also know, logically, that change is good. 

Change is necessary for growth. 

It’s necessary for new and good things to HAPPEN. 

Yet my inner five-year old still resists. 

I didn’t write about the unfolding of events this summer for various reasons, but I did allude to the fact that my life often unfolds in insanely unexpected ways, and this summer proved that.  It’s a long story of difficult decisions and unexpected opportunities, of wrong choices that somehow led to the right ones, and to Divine intervention. 

And I ended up here—with a brand new job teaching insanely bright and interesting high school students AND a contract to write my very first book. (I’m doing a happy dance as I write these words!  Much more to come about this process later.) 

Two months ago, I pictured myself at home, opening an Etsy shop and revising my novel.  Maybe even possibly homeschooling. 

Now I find myself employed full-time and writing a book that has actual deadlines and editors.

Picture me, white knuckles and maxed out heart rate, during that split second after the last click of the roller coaster pulley and right before the car plummets toward the earth below.  Yeah, that’s me.

Or, at least, it was.  I find that after two weeks of fairly dramatic highs and lows, of pure joy and deep doubt that I am settling in. 

I’m finding my place.  My pace. 

It will take time—this new life.  Even Open House at the elementary school left me teary-eyed.  I felt a knot in my stomach about all the missed opportunities to bring the class snack or to help with the Halloween party or to chaperone the field trip to the science museum.  I am so happy to have this opportunity to do the work I love and to be PAID (Yay!!! After years of volunteering, a paycheck is going to be AWESOME!), but I’m also mourning the passing of this period of my life that I have grown to love so much—even though I know it’s time to move on to a new chapter.

Opportunities for things we cannot even fathom are waiting for us right around the corner.

 

 

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