Annual Review
I have rarely been able to accept compliments as genuine or awards as meaningful. I realize this is about me and not the one bestowing the kudos. It’s just that my own accomplishments never seem worth slowing down and celebrating. Not one to rest on my laurels, I’m always looking at what I haven’t done yet, what needs to happen next. It is not in my nature to reflect on what I’ve achieved.
But . . . I recently realized that it’s been over a year since my last day of paid work. It dawned on me that it would be appropriate to take stock, evaluate the decision. What did I expect? What did I find? Was it worth it? Have I accomplished what I set out to do?
“This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Expectations
I had conflicting ideas about what it would mean to be a “stay-at-home” mom. It never occurred to me as a possibility that I might not have to work. When the occasion arose, two opposite visions of the future vied for my attention.
Would I finally have time to write my book? To read that stack of books, to change my diet, to exercise, to calm down? Would I finally stop feeling like I was under someone else’s microscope and be able to just be me? Think my own thoughts? Explore my own ideas? As for Ben, would I be able to guide him when he needed it and let him explore and grow at a pace just right for him? Would I have the time, energy, discipline, and patience to prepare for and positively engage in the conflicts to come during his fight for autonomy (aka the terrible twos)?
Or would I become a raving lunatic, stuck home all day, isolated from adult human contact? Would I become a TV junkie or addicted to the Internet? Would I grow even fatter and unhealthier? Would I detach entirely from the person I had created? Would I coddle Ben, giving in to keep the peace because it would be easier to spend the day with a happy, if undisciplined, child? Would I end up letting him watch TV for hours, so I could have some peace or get something done?
Luckily, not much of the second vision came to be, and a good deal of the first one did.
What Happened
I have not gone crazy. We have not gone broke. We were even able to go on vacation. I have been able to read, lose weight, calm down a little, and (special added extra bonus I never expected) watch movies I’ve always wanted to see. I’ve had time for people—volunteered for good causes, done favors for family members, and been available for friends. I’ve been my babysitter’s backup babysitter. I don’t tighten up when someone asks a favor of Rich, which I think means I’m less possessive of his time. I’ve even read fiction.
Around the house we’ve had time to install the solar hot water system and put a thermostat on the evaporative cooler. I was able to add several inches of compost to the garden, learn more about organic and desert gardening, and attempt to grow several new types of edible plants. On a more recurring basis, I’ve had time to hang laundry outside and make dinner nearly every night. And once a month, we set aside an entire day to clean the house.
I haven’t been a perfect parent, but I’ve been there to see Ben’s face as he discovers his world—from his fascination with the ocean to his delight in discerning the effect of pulling someone’s finger. I’ve been there to kiss his bumps and bruises and to reassure him when he’s frightened. We’ve laughed and cried and just sat together. Once or twice I felt I was not doing enough for him; he was ready for more and I was trying to keep things the same. But those thoughts passed as we adjusted to the newest stage. If I had to pick one thing as the most wonderful, most rewarding part of this year, it would be watching Ben make connections between new experiences and some memory from months ago. What his brain holds onto is, as he would say, fableeous.
“The family is one of nature’s masterpieces.”
George Santayana
What Didn’t Happen
I haven’t become serene and wise. I haven’t written a book. Writing any more than a page at a time takes continuity of thought, which in turn takes uninterrupted chunks of time. Those are rare.
I am learning patience, though not nearly fast enough. Ben recently turned three. One more year and he’ll be in preschool. Already the end of this treasured time is in view. I say this with a straight face after enduring a housebound afternoon of coloring, catch, and 20 turns as doctor and 20 turns as patient.
This year has been an indulgence for me. It sounds almost unreal when put together like this. And to think of all the time I wasted worrying I wasn’t getting enough done. The good is here.
Expectations
What do I expect of next year? There will be less worrying about money, since we’ve adapted well to our new, more frugal lifestyle. If I can keep up with what I’ve started, that should be good enough. But I’d like to learn more, continue educating myself on ways I can lessen our negative impact on future generations and the world. To that end, I will experiment more with vegetarian foods and I expect we will continue working toward our goals of rainwater harvesting and going entirely solar. And, finally, I hope to continue writing small pieces, like this one, for what they’re worth and in anticipation of the day when I can devote large chunks of time, once again, to writing.
No act is wasted. All of it is at once practice and the big event.
Amy Vaughn
Copyright © 2006 Amy Vaughn.
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