The Worrier in Me

I am someone who was born anxious. While cultivating a calm outward demeanor, I am often raging with uncertainty inside. It's in my dna for sure. I can worry about things large and small. Will the current famine in Africa ever end? Will the recently planted perennials come back? Will my husband's day go all right? Will my son get on the soccer team? Will my daughters more than pass their mid-terms? Will the roofer do a good job fixing the roof? Will the President figure out how to get along with Congess? And so it goes- day in and day out. In my earlier life, as a professional photographer working in New York City where you committed all your work to film and didn't see your results for hours or days- well, that was a bonus land for worrying. Will the lab ruin my film? Will my shots look okay? Will the client be pleased? Will they file Chapter 11 before I get paid? Will I get paid? Oh yes, photography back then was a dream profession for someone who is predisposed to agita. Combine that with marriage, three pregnancies, buying a house- it all makes for a bonus land for the anxiety inclined. I have gotten very philosophic over the years as most things have mostly worked out. I actively cultivate things that make me feel calm, like caring for others, gardening, cooking, creating and contributing. But on a bad day, when I can't muster the outlook to focus on feeling positive, well- it's a hey day for my worrying nature. Best not to go there.

Higher Learning

I've learned a thing or two about stretching a dollar. It started when my son was two, my housekeeper wanted to quit and help her daughter with her first grandchild, and my career imploded and my business began to disappear. Full time motherhood of 3 kids under 8 doesn't exactly bode well for being a chic, talented New York City commercial photographer. Ever since then, we have had some ups and downs- but certainly I got prepared for this last year. Since my husband, James, lost his job a year ago we have both been marginally unemployed ever since. I have been mastering the art of squeezing dimes, grateful for our healthy home equity line at 3%, relatives who have helped us give the kids the extras that Westchester county children so desperately require. Nora got her minimal retainer with the help of our dental insurance and my eldest can never say her mother didn't insure that she would have a lovely set of teeth (especially when she smiles wide) . Motherhood is a balancing act of many sets of expectations, your own, your kids, and everyone else's. (My husband's expectations rate very high also, most of the time). Keeping them in jeans whose fit they like- always bought with some kind of discount, trying to have candlelit dinners most nights and all else in between.
Optimism needs nurturing also, to stay alive.

Nothing like a quiet Sunday in my tidy kitchen to give me a sense of calm. Trying to figure out how to apply for jobs,
food stamps, hustle my photography and move our lives forward. Not a lot of freedom from anxiety in our busy household.
Splurged today on 6 harp ornaments at Macy's- reduced from $10.00 to $2.50 per- added to my drapes as a decorative accents gives the living room a little more pizazz. The struggle is to be hopeful and determined and not relinquish my sense of well being in all this uncertainty. It's very easy to blame myself for losing track of my career while raising three kids, When James lost his job it became crystal clear how vulnerable we are. Oh, we are nowhere near losing our home- just our morale has taken a beating.
Motherhood is not a good financial investment, that's for sure. But when they stroll into a room looking very comfortable in their own skin, with a steady gaze, stature and voices to match. I think, well, I didn't really waste those years- I just lost some financial well being and the ego boost to match. This is the challenge. After feeling desperately low- I need to create something better each day. Stay tuned.

It's not a good day. It's not awful either. I am restless and unable to settle my attention on anything. It hurts, hurts painfully to admit my sorry condition. Running errands makes me feel purposeful and momentarily engaged and thus relieved of my hardest feelings. Motherhood absorbed me completely and now that my children are older, I am relieved of the need to be utterly vigilant. But to what end? And with what do I absorb my energies? My photography business is adrift- just like me. This has to be a better year- it must. Scraping together determination, selfishness and desire is the mandate of the moment. Wish me luck.

Overrated?

A cold Sunday and the last day of Christmas vacation. I had a spat with my daughter Sarah today and she stomped out of the room after declaring "I hate you." Sometimes the effort of keeping them going seems like a questionable investment of my time. On a certain level, her ability to share her thoughts unedited amazes me. I had many difficult feelings towards my mother, but I don't recall ever expressing them out loud. I was too intimidated by her  to ever feel that emboldened by my emotions to tell her what I really thought. So I am sad, weary and hoping that the transition back to our school routine isn't too rocky. My children are no longer babies, we don't live in Kansas, and as much as I don't want to admit it, I have serious doubts that motherhood is a very worthwhile endeavor. Once, as a young adult, I asked my mom what she thought of motherhood. "Overrated", she replied.