Change

by Missy

"I'm going to be forty!" wailed Meg Ryan's character in When Harry Met Sally.

"When?" asked Harry.

"Someday!" sobbed Sally.

And in 1989, that was funny. Oh my goodness, I laughed at that. "Someday!" Woo hoo, snort, punch-my-then-boyfriend-now-my-husband-in-the-arm-kind-of-funny.

Because I was 21.

And now, "someday" is next week. I'm going to be 40 next week. By the time you read this, I will already be 40, and suddenly "someday" isn't so funny.

I don't remember when the idea of turning 40 started bothering me. I just remember Meg Ryan's voice in my head suddenly. And it was annoying.

Until recently, I didn't feel even 35. As long as I cover the silver in my hair, I don't look 35. A year ago, someone thought my daughter and I were sisters, that the friend we were with, a woman my age, was our mother. I was even wearing grown-up clothes that evening, instead of my usual sweats. I've had complete strangers openly and loudly bemoan my lost youth because they look at my three children and assume I started having babies when I was 14, and, for some reason, it's acceptable to accost strangers if they're teen mothers. Then they figure out why my daughter is snickering and so they ask for my skin regiment, which consists solely of a liberal layer of extra padding (fat, to be clear), coffee (black, no sugar, no cream), and a concerted effort to wash my face daily (with water).

So I've been comfortably in denial, especially since I felt--mentally and physically--young.

Lately, though, I've felt 40. I'm tired. I know why--we're still, as my husband says, chasing shadows with our youngest child, trying to find out what's going on inside his tiny body. When I feel like we're getting somewhere, when something clicks, I have a rush of energy. My head clears and I'm focused. When we end up going in circles, my head starts spinning, my shoulders ache, and I can feel that energy disappearing. Stress sucks, literally and figuratively.

I don't like feeling, officially, "over-the-hill". It zaps hope and comes with a sense of finality, a suggestion that life is set. Immobile.

But...I remember, every once in a while, that my cousin just had her first baby a couple months ago. She's 45. 45!! And yet, her life as a mother is just starting. That kind of hope, that beginning of a new life journey, is undeniable. So many little miracles, so many changes, are still ahead for her and it's proof for me that I need to work on my state of mind.

That state of mind is important to me as a parent, particularly as a homeschooling parent.

I have to have that sense of hope, that sense that anything is possible, that ability to trust change and to embrace it and follow it. With change comes growth. I need to grow with my kids, to learn with them, because homeschooling is a lifestyle. If I lose my ability to grow and I lose the joy that comes with learning and exploring, it will threaten that life and permeate our family.

Hope is important. Joy is essential. When I realize that I'm losing either, it's time to seek it out, to find it in the little things and to nurture it so that it grows and attaches to the bigger things.

The presidential election is heating up. There is, for me, a renewed sense of hope with it. There's a fresh dream, an energy, an idealism that could solidify into a reality and I'm holding my breath because, with that dream, is a sense of future that I want to grab and hold onto for my children.

This is an amazing time to be homeschooling! We're in the midst of an historical presidential campaign and no matter who you support the implications of this race are undeniable. We have an opportunity to immerse our kids in real-life Civics, in a living history. This is an event they can reach out and dig their nails into, and I don't have time to be old and decrepit.

I need to keep up with my kids.

I need change:  Change

Missy's homeschooling journey began when she realized that the walls surrounding her daughter's classroom were too narrow; there was no room for exploration, no space for stretching. Now, she and her three children stretch and explore the world together. My blog: caffeinatedjive.

Comments

[Robin]

I love the link (how profoundly funny!), and of course, I love the post. I've been reading Joel Osteen lately, and he talks about changing out the "wine skins" every now and then as we become hardened and thus stagnant in vision status quo as do all wine skins over time. We need a new vision for ourselves and our lives every now and then or no matter what good comes our way, we have a hard time recognizing it, holding it, and growing it in our lives very well.

[Jackie]

I love this post because it hits me on so many different levels: growing older, caring for a child with a chronic illness, holding on to hope, and changing our lives as individuals and as a nation. You knitted them together beautifully.

The hope and joy equation is kind of like the chicken and the egg question--which comes first? I'm not sure, but I believe both are essential. And I learn both from my daughter--even when she can't do what the other children can do she finds joy--even when she goes to bed with a rasp, propped up on pillows to breath better she finds hope in the promise of the next day. And even when my shoulders are exhausted from waking up a dozen times to listen to her chest, her hope and joy bring me joy and hope. I'm sure you find the same to be true in your life.

Robin, I can see how you connected this post with Osteen. He is all about hope and possibilities and making changes in the moment. His view of faith is so different from what I learned that I have to seriously work at it to make those ideas mine. He has a journal that goes along with the book that I think is awesome.

Wonderful post Missy! I'm sorry my response got so long--believe it or not this is the shortened version LOL!

[JHS]

Thanks for participating in this week's Carnival of Family Life: St. Patrick's Day Edition at Colloquium (www.jhsiess dot com)! The Carnival will be live at midnight (Pacific time) on March 17, 2008, so drop by and check out all of the wonderful submissions included this week! Happy St. Patrick's Day to you!