It's Not Too Late
or Happy (very belated) Mother's Day
Several years ago my hairstylist shared with me that she was taking pre-requisite classes for nursing school. At the time, she was almost 35 and wondered if she had waited too late for a career change. I was quick to say that even if she finished at 40 she’d could still work for 25 years as a nurse. It reminded me of something a friend once said: “I know everyone says that life is short, but it’s sort of long too.”
Leaving that day, I affirmed in myself that what we discussed could be true for me too and a tiny seed was planted. I began to see that the dreams I had of meaningful work, of writing, of having a life outside of parenting, weren’t completely empty. It wasn’t too late. At the time, I was working very part-time at a job I didn’t care much about and homeschooling our 2 (soon to be 3) kids. I was by no means miserable, but I wasn’t thriving. I’d carved out this life I’d wanted as a stay-at-home mom, but it did not fulfill me the way I had anticipated or hoped.
One of my favorite poets, Kate Baer, is vocal about how having another baby pushed her to begin to give more time to her work as a writer. She says this about her fourth child: “After he was born, I knew I could not survive in our current state. That fourth sack of flour sank me straight to the bottom of the ocean and I knew the only way up was to let go. So I picked up some side hustles, I scheduled more paid childcare than I ever had before, and then I began to write.”
For me, adding a third child to our family was just as a friend had said of his own experience — “Shit. Got. Real.” The transition was not the same emotionally as going from zero to one but my days were filled in a new way. It shrunk the pockets of time I had for myself. I could barely stay awake to figure out what I wanted beyond or adjacent to motherhood, much less pursue it.
I, like Baer, was drowning. Baer goes on to say this about her fourth child: “Dax is my dreammaker. Not because he made my dreams come true, but because he made a much better dream. One with him in it. And one where I could be the most true version of myself.”
I did not read Baer’s words at the time, but during my third pregnancy, I began to realize that I needed time and space to uncover that true version of myself. I needed to honor my curiosity, my gifting, and my personhood. I needed childcare.
It’s hard to say what came first, or what led to each decision. Was it the third baby? The pandemic? Was it the book that shifted my educational priorities? The spot at the charter school near our home? Or, was it me saying yes to church leadership? Who knows. I’m not sure it matters. What does matter, is that in the midst of the change, I began to peel back the layers and look more closely at myself. I was able to be honest about what was working and what wasn’t. And eventually, I had the space (childcare) to slowly birth dreams I’d been pregnant with long before my own children.
I am not at the end of this story. I sometimes wonder if pursuing my own career has been to the detriment of my kids' education or if it would be better for my family if I stepped back and worked less. But, when I’m honest I know that I am where I should be. I’m learning how to parent and work and be a person, which is no small feat. I am still in process, or as Kaitlin Curtice writes: I am still arriving.
