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Thursday, September 20, 2018

pretending like i can

Years ago, feels like another person, I wrote all about career/baby balance in several posts, the wanting of both worlds, simultaneously.

I thought about that me, dropping my last baby off at pre-school in the rain, only to drive to a client meeting an hour and a half a way with this look on my face the whole time, giant thermos of chai on hand, the silence interrupted only by the windshield wipers, grey skies and golden autumn fields flashing by my side.

And I thought about how I wish I was the kind of woman who could do this life. Career pursuits intermixed with crazy hair day and chocolate sales and basketball registration and dishes and laundry and homework check-offs and reading practice and please put down the ipad. I felt like I was pretending, driving through the rain. Like, I wish I was that woman. Who was strong enough. Tough enough. I wish this felt normal. Maybe someday, I found myself thinking. Maybe someday I can do it.

Then I realized something.

I needed to change the language in my head, in that very moment. Not, I wish I were stronger, better, more able. But that I AM strong, I AM able.

Maybe is today.

I am doing it.

I mean. I might be cranky some mornings. I might forget to check math homework. I might send my kid to school without snacks packed. I might mix up Tuesday with Thursday. Or get snappish at my 12 year, no really put the &#$!!*# ipad down.

But dammit.

I am doing it.

And here is the thing I have been rolling around in my head for weeks now. Something I read ages ago but now sticks like glue to my thoughts. Courage is not the lack of fear. Courage is doing, even when afraid. Courage is doing, even when we are positive we are not actually up to the task. Courage is motion, action, purpose.

And I went to my client meeting and smiled and shook hands, wearing my blazer and, yes, lipstick, and I drove home, in the rain, and met kids at the bus and sweated out 4th grade math homework, and made dinner, and answered work emails as the potato soup simmered.

There is hope. If we look for it, is the thing. Strength too. Mamas. We have so much of it, right? And there is, always, a new day tomorrow.


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