A Facebook friend asked where I have been lately. As in, "why the heck aren't you posting your usual cheesy status updates every 20 minutes?"
How do I tell her that I've been cleansing my soul? How do I tell her that I've jumped off the freight train of adulthood and have been riding the kiddy carousel for the last five months?
In August, I begin my respiratory therapy program. It will be 20 hours of school and clinical rotations a week, beginning every day at 7 a.m. It doesn't sound like much, but it's a scheduling hardship with two kids that don't begin their school day till 9 a.m. and a husband that has to leave the house at 7:30. It's the beginning of a different kind of stress. It will be rewarding, but deeply challenging for me. I have never started the day without my children, let alone leaving the house at 6:15 in the morning.
I've been hemming pants, planning a London trip, mowing the lawn, and baking banana bread. It's the final phase of being a stay-at-home mom, and I'm milking the opportunity for all it's worth. I volunteer at the kids' school, ride bikes with them to school, and spend 2 hours a day, twice a week, hiking. Truly, it's a deleriously-rich way to spend time.
Pleasurable, almost stress-free days do have a way of making my existence almost hedonistic. I've read every Duran Duran tour review, and condition my hair quite frequently. But those small indulgences have taken me back to a place I haven't visited in so long; my childhood.
I haven't felt the need to vent or share my joy. I haven't been reading, and writing seems almost laborious to me. It's been a deeply personal time. When I go to bed at night, I pluck the latest Sudoku or word game magazine from the nightstand, and settle in for an episode of Dexter. This all will change. Soon enough I will plaster my Facebook wall with rants, raves, and small victories. I will be writing papers for school, and reading about the biochemics of respiration.
But right now I have to go pick up the kids. And think about how the hell I've collected 6 tubes of mascara in such a short stretch of time.