There comes a point in most every Domesticated Goddesses’ life that she realizes her youngest will soon venture off to the classroom leaving behind a stay at home mother with no child to parent. Said mother needs to take a long, hard look in the mirror and ask, Who am I now? This eternal moment scares the living daylights out of many a woman. I find some friends not ready to face that reality so they end up pregnant and smiling that their fated day is prolonged. My youngest is about to turn two so this Goddess is thinking – What’s next?
Fifteen years ago, before I became known to little people as Mommy, I was a teacher. I would stumble through lesson plans, grade papers, wipe noses and try to mold young minds. When I became a mother, I found it too difficult to have patience left for my own children at the end of a long day with thirty little ones. So, I tabled my budding educational career for the greener pastures of raising my own kids. The adventure has been an amazing and at times difficult, but I have never regretted the decision to stay at home watching my children grow.
But, now that I am faced with the prospect of doing just about anything with my life I find that terrifying. I’m pushing forty and having a mid-wife crisis!
Ever since I was able to hold a pencil I wanted to write. I would write stories as a child, about my own experiences -embellished of course. A queen who controlled her older brothers and turned them into slaves. In one, I was CEO of the New York Times, and in another starting up my own creative venture.
Then, as I got older I decided I wanted to write – for real.
A few people discouraged me explaining that as a mother could never handle running off to cover wars in Iraq or to write stories of poverty in third world countries. I was told writing was cut-throat and difficult to break into. My insecurities won me over and down the educator path I went.
It was never my true passion, but I did it and did it well. My students were my babies until I had my own babies. Now that my babies are growing up (with my oldest in high school) it’s time to realize my passion and face my fears.
We as mid-wife crisis mothers have waited long enough. We’ve procrastinated, we’ve delved into our children’s lives to create wonderful little contributions to the world so that they can go on and become successful and autonomous.
Now, it’s our turn. At least while I was waiting around, raising babies and changing diapers – it seems that things got easier to navigate…
Starting a career at 36 may not seem ridiculous. It’s not old, it’s hardly feeble, but after being at home for so many years I feel ancient. Just fifteen years ago looking for a job, there were no social networks, no tweets about your thoughts, no itunes to listen to on the way to work, heck, there was barely even an Internet!!
I would print out the resume on the old fashioned printer and mail in my copies following up with a phone call. I would scour the newspaper when I would look for a job before, now I can just pop on to a writing site or other freelance websites looking for writing jobs, submit my samples, link to my blog and wait. Oh, yes and then I get to wait. Ah, I also can wait. All this waiting is so freaking frustrating I could die waiting!!
As I wait I have found little gems in my online searches for Freelance Work. Having been hired many times I have had a wonderful experience through an online site called Elance. This little helper has been my hand-holder throughout my hedonistic healing of mommy hood into a real-life writer extraordinaire. Clients actually contact me instead of me chasing after them! Hallelujah!
Yes, I will persevere. I still have impressionable little people around the house. They see the efforts I am making, they observe the phone calls, the writing samples, the resumes, the follow ups and the edits. My oldest is learning that getting a job is a process that never ends – even as you grow older. My daughters are learning that women can do anything – be a mother, then be a woman with a career, or both at the same time. I am learning that life after full time motherhood isn’t as terrifying as I thought it might be. I am learning that all of my investments in patience has given me the gift of maturity and confidence so that when I send in my writing there is no longer embarrassment or fear of rejection. I am smarter now than when I was a 21 year old fresh off the college scene. So, other Domesticated Goddesses take heed – there is life after your little one goes of to preschool. I hope!