Cigarettes and chocolate milk.

I don't have much to say. I'm drinking red wine, and enjoying the scent of roasted root vegetables and thyme. The baby, who's not so much of a baby anymore, is asleep. I think.

Life is pretty good. I keep thinking I'm not doing enough of significance with my time. Of course, keeping my child safe, sheltered and fed, is worthwhile. But it doesn't give me much to say to other people.

I'm wondering if the fact that I'm thinking these feelings more often of late is a sign I should be moving into Phase 2, whatever that might be.

Well, I kind of am. I had a weird sort of half-day, helping out at a local shop. Which might or might not lead to weekend work-- which could be good for our bank account, but isn't necessarily something that seems like my Next Big Move.

I sent out some emails to people in an industry I'd like to be working in. Haven't heard back. I'm not sure what my next step is there.

And I'm signed up for another stint of intensive month-long writing (not quite so intensive as November 2012, but still-- a commitment.) I have to admit, I'm feeling a little... stuck, I guess, with my project. I don't know. Have any of you put years of your life into something that you generally love beyond reason, but you're unsure is worth anyone else's notice? What do you do to get past the moments of This sucks, and I think fixing what sucks might require pitching most of what I've done and starting over somehow? Because that right there--

Well. Have any of you read Tim Gunn explaining his catch-phrase, "Make it Work"? It's from his days as a studio critic, teaching at Parsons. It's a pretty common moment for a young student to look at what she's done, realize it's shit, and want to toss it all in the crapper and start fresh. But Tim Gunn always advised against that. He said that so much thought and effort has gone in to the work you've done thus far-- if you pitch it, you're pitching all the richness of those hours of thinking and problem solving. You'll lose all those deep layers, for something tidier but shallower.

But if you can find a way to Make It Work, you'll almost always have a product that's worthy of the time you spent on it.

Or something to that effect.

So, I'm hoping I can take that advice, and my April word-count commitment, and get over this hump of self-hatred. Excelsior, motherfuckers!

In other news, I've been cuckoo for cocoa. For months now. I just love my steamy chocolate milk before bed. Yum.

Hey. At least I'm not smoking anymore, right? Today it's been two years and three months. Woot!

And four years and five days since I started this project I'm still refining. Maybe I'll be done by five? We'll see. I think I can go a little easy on myself there, since I've had a stint in a psych ward and borne my first child (amongst other things) in the years in-between.

Time to refill my glass.

Comments

[Kathi]

I totally understand the feeling of wanting to do more that just be a mom. Honestly, it took me a long time to tell myself that it's ok to feel that way.

Phase 2 is hard. I've been stuck at Phase 2 for quite a while, especially since I've been home with the kids for 12 years now. And, working a minimum wage part-time job is not my way of "living the dream."

For me, since I want to get back into social work when the kids are gone, I have found ways to volunteer. It's not much right now, but it's something.

You'll find your way. Just don't beat yourself up too much over this. I think we moms have a tendency to feel like we're not doing enough.

[roo]

I think you're right.

Part of it is that I feel the burden of financial obligations the same as before I stopped working outside the home, and I have this hard-to-shake sense that by not bringing in my contribution that I'm letting the family down.

Which ignores te fact that I am bringing in some money, and that childcare isn't free-- that I'm performing a service we'd have to pay someone else to do.

And of course, that someone else wouldn't be me. Which brings me round full-circle.

I think it might also be a bit of a reflection that he's getting more capable. And the more capable he becomes, the less necessary I feel. Which is as it should be, but I think you might see where those thoughts are headed.

I can't figure it all out tonight, sir. So I'm just going to hang with your daughter.