When was my last blog post? (Checking) August 28th. It’s not that I don’t WANT to blog. Its that finding time is hard (stupid excuses). But it’s necessary. Because when I logged in today I found this forgotten little conversation between the Peanut and D saved in my ‘draft’ folder.
D: “Peanut, say ‘goodnight.’ It’s time to go to bed.”
Peanut: “No, sorry, I need to be a bear first.” (Holds up bear ‘claws’ and stalks out of the room).
There’s so much going on right now. Too much. And I’m having a hard time juggling it all. I keep dropping balls. Phone calls I forget to return. Email chains dropped. The wrong thing said because I’m not taking the time to think things through. To think about other people’s feelings. Issues left unresolved. Questions unanswered. That conversation with the Peanut would have totally been absorbed into the inaccessible chaos of my memory bank if I hadn’t written it down.
Since my last post we’ve moved to a new house, leaving behind the house that I suspect Ms. B. will always associate with her childhood. Where we brought home the Peanut. Where D and I got married. And with that move has come problems with the new house and problems with the old house as we get it ready to rent and things don’t seem to be proceeding the way they are supposed to at either house. Money money money. Everything’s hemorrhaging money. D traveled to Russia and France for work, and took the Peanut to visit his grandmother in southwest Kansas who is nearing the end. My car, that fucking car, has needed more and more repairs (more money). The Peanut was moved to a new classroom at her Preschool because the teachers were worried she wasn’t being challenged in her old one. Was that the right move? I still don’t know. Ms. B. has been struggling with her own health issues that probably deserve their own post, probably a private one.
On top of everything else, I’ve decided to make some career moves, which probably shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise given the tone of my last post. But it’s still requiring a huge shift in my thinking. I’m sorry, I have to be vague about it for a moment.
The question is: Do I go through Door A? Or do I stay where I am? D wants me to give him answers. He wants to be supportive, but Door A goes against everything he thinks is safe. How does Door A work? How does Door A provide security and stability for our family? What if Door A isn’t the answer? I don’t have the answers to those questions yet, and its scary and makes me nervous, too. But I’m content just knowing that whatever is behind Door A is better than continuing to stand still. And if Door A isn’t the answer, then I’ll look for Door B.
That’s not good enough, and it’s not fair to D. But neither is it fair to me to stay somewhere I’m miserable just so everyone else feels ‘safe’ and ‘comfortable.’ To me, leaping into the unknown is much less scary than staring down the barrel of forty years spent crying in my car every morning because I can’t pep-talk my way into making a twenty-foot walk into an office building. Maybe leaping without a parachute is suicide. But just because I’m standing here breathing doesn’t mean I’m living.
But maybe its too much? Maybe, put on top of everything else that is going on right now, it’s too much. It’s too much change and chaos. Maybe I should just stay put for a little bit longer. Wait it out a little bit longer. Or is that just the fear talking?