The one I settled on

I had probably half a dozen posts written my head this morning. Some were fluffy, some were very personal, all were fairly schizophrenic. So this one won out.

I’m doing this challenge this weekend. She so eloquently puts into words how I’ve felt for a long time. I have a very hard time remembering who I was before A and J showed up. I was one hell of a flute player, I know that. Not bragging, but true. I wasn’t orchestral quality, but that’s because I didn’t like orchestras. ; ) I auditioned for a couple of military bands, though. The Army Fife and Drum Corps and the Marines. Both wanted me, but I didn’t persue it further because I knew I was going to get married and have kids, and I just knew that those were mutually exclusive. I went to grad school and by the time I graduated I had the director of bands telling me I should stay on for my doctorate. See above reason why I didn’t (oh, and I was seriously burned out on school). After graduating from grad school I taught a year and the school wanted me to stay on (oh, and I really hated teaching middle school). See above reason why I didn’t. Yeah, I was way up there in the moron department. Now I don’t play or teach. At all. I teach one flute lesson a week to one of my very favorite people in the whole world (she’s like a little sister to me and I adore her) and that’s it. So I don’t know who I am, other than A and J’s mom, and it’s been frustrating to me for a long time. Uh, five years long. Wow, A is five. It worsened considerably roughly 2 years ago. Huh. J is two. Coincidence? I think not. ; )

I know there’s a reason out there for me, I just don’t know what yet. I feel it. Growing up, I never knew what I was going to be when I grew up. Cute when you’re 8, depressing as hell when you’re 32.

So I’m muddling along as best I can, living the never ending to-do list. I can’t figure out why I’m so unable to figure out what my soul needs me to do. Oh, here’s a clue: A derailed my train of thought again to pull stems off a couple of blueberries for him. Old habits are hard to break. I used to be able to concentrate and practice my flute for 2+ hours at a stretch. You get used to that sort of concentration and I don’t have that luxury now. I’m lucky to have 2 minutes, it’s usually 30 seconds. Now Tom has derailed the thought train. Sigh… So inability to concentrate is part of it. It’s amazing how much more relaxed I am, and how much I can accomplish when A is at school.

I can’t blame him, though. So many moms, successful women who are moms, have challenging children and still are able to fill their souls. How about here (son with Autism, husband in politics), here (mom to four boys, one with ADHD, in the process of adopting a baby from Korea, editor of a large magazine), and here (mom of twins and still creative and positive). Yeah, they’re all scrapbookers I admire, for one reason or another, but I have to know: do they have the answer? And what, really, is the question? Is it because we’re far from family and no one really “has our back?” Is it because I refuse to ask for help (very likely)? Is it because of me (very probably)? What do I need to do? Is it going to get easier? I feel so guilty that I snap at the boys for wanting my attention, but my brain hurts going back and forth between my needs and theirs. And it’s all day, no rest. I’m hoping it’ll get better with school in session now.

Soon I’ll be doing this class. I’ve always wondered about the basis of creativity, and how to be more creative. I have high hopes this class will help. I love the idea of online classes, and this one looks promising. I’ve always felt that I’m not terribly creative. I’m able to interpret music and make it beautiful, but I can’t compose. One of my favorite classes in college was Art Appreciation. Stick figures are a challenge for me to draw. I asked on an email list once, and the responses I got pretty much boiled down to: you have to just keep at it and practice. Sounds like jazz; never got the hang of that either.

So this weekend I’m on a hunt to see what makes me me. I’m going to dig out old recordings, find high school and college pictures, and see what I find. My answer is out there somewhere, I know it.