I am considering starting a journal called "Dear You - Stop Bitching."
Because, I'm seeing a hundred million beautiful photos of pretty babies on Facebook, and while it's not necessarily making me want to run home and build our own tiny Turner right this very moment in time, it is creating a certain peaceful dream that I escape to in times of stress. And there are lots of times of stress. Sustained - days - of - stress.
My body is aching with a slightly nauseous exhaustion right now, the very kind I fear will come with a newborn, which is 90% of the reason I don't have one. The rest of the reasons make up the other 90%. But I'm exhausted. Little sleep, sustained high stress. I'm currently at hour 13 for my work day in the office - that puts me at 107.25 total for the past 10 days. I'll be here for another 4 or 5 more hours likely today. And we'll do it again tomorrow. But then, I'll be done. Until the next proposal.
I've been here both of the last two glorious weekends. All week evenings until at least 9:30pm. And so, I stare at sweet photos of babies and escape to this future dream of not working under deadlines and not being surrounded by ego and pressure and weird relational conflicts. Awww, motherhood. It'll be grand. I'll be home to switch my laundry before it starts to stink and I have to restart the towels for a wash load - to undo their previous wash load (hello this morning). I won't get intense stomach aches that I realize are just my bladder about to explore because I haven't gotten up from my desk for four hours. No, I'll pee, even if there are tiny fingers peeping under my door and a tiny voice asking "whatcha doin?" Or "how are you?" At least someone will be taking the time to ask. That will be nice. Right? I'll clean up my own home and handle my own family's scheduling, deadlines and concerns... rather than someone else's while ours are frantically caught up on while pdfs load or print jobs run, or I walk across the street to grab a smoothie for lunch.
Yes, a dream, motherhood.
But I have a Facebook. And so, I know that no mother thinks she has it great. You all say you have the hardest job on earth - and it's nonstop. So, I'm guessing it really is pretty rough. Thus the journal. I've had enough jobs to realize you begin to forget why you left them - just how bad they were - and how great the new one would be. So my journal, Dear You - Stop Bitching, it'll be a place for me to write down right now the reasons this job, living, today, is really, really hard. And why I'm excited about whatever the future job might be.
Because, I'm pretty sure I'll become a mom, and I'll miss this. And then, my kids will grow up and it will be time for me to consider rejoining the work force, and then, I'll miss parenting... or something.
The grass is always greener - there's always a next goal, a next identity and dream and set of challenges to go along with it. And I'll have my journal to look back on and remember, "Oh yeah, that sucked really bad too sometimes. So, stop bitching."
So I'm repeating to myself what I read on one of my mommy friend's facebooks today: Just Show Up. And right now, that's a big accomplishment. Maybe I'll sharpie that on the back of the journal.