FACT: 2014 was the first full year that I wasn’t pregnant for any part of the year since 2008. 2008. That’s a lifetime ago. I have spent the last seven years of my life thinking about getting pregnant, being pregnant, and having babies. I am blessed beyond measure with my crew of little ones and it is safe to say I no longer have babies on the brain.
This fun fact got me thinking of the somewhat predictable schedule that is my life. Let’s take a quick trip down memory lane:
February 2004: Start dating my future husband
November 2004: Buy a condo and move in with future husband
October 2005: Get engaged
September 2006: Get married
October 2007: Build a house and move
May 2008: Complete my graduate degree
September 2008: Get pregnant
May 2009: Have Noah
July 2010: Get pregnant
April 2011: Have Zachary
October 2012: Move into forever home AND get pregnant
July 2013: Have Eliza
As you can see, my husband and I have had a major life event every year since we have known each other (without including work related highlights). Our decade together has been spent experiencing, in my opinion, the upper echelon of life experiences. When someone would ask me: “What’s going on?” I always had a really good answer. We’ve lived milestone to milestone and although I wouldn’t change a thing about the path we have taken, now that we’re purely living in the tedium of day to day life I find that I am restless and often wondering: “What’s next?!” This coupled with my obsessive need to plan, prepare, and organize leads to massive amounts of anxiety. I guess I view my conundrum as a good problem to have. I mean, I’m essentially stressing about how to spend my free time and energy. I am crazy thankful that my thoughts are drifting to this generally happy place and are not darkened by worries of a solemn nature.
Anyways, the figurative quiet has given me an opportunity to explore aspects of my personality that were all but forgotten and seemingly smothered by my literally ever growing uterus. I always had myself pinned as the conservative-risk averse-unimaginative-timid type, but lately I’ve noticing traits of the opposite kind buzzing inside of me. In the last year alone I have tried: direct sales (loved the jewelry, hated selling it), taken a photography class (will be going back for more), signed up for a bunch of running events (just ran my first 10K!), taken on a bigger role in a volunteer organization (paying it forward, baby), signed up for a sewing class (finally!!), started blogging (Hi, I’m SO happy to be here), and attempted countless crafts (crocheting you’re on deck!). Not only do I have a lot of varied interests, but I tend to have a “Go big or Go home” attitude. Staying true to form, I have realized that I would like to be a photographer, writer, pastry chef, interior designer, and/or personal shopper/stylist when I grow up. Obviously.
Maybe the adventure to find meaningful creative outlets is fueled by being somewhat unfulfilled in my day job. Maybe the search is a small escape for me because being a mom is hard as hell. No matter, I deem this my Renaissance period and I can’t wait to see what brilliant idea I come up with next! (Sorry, Matt!!)