He was doing it. She was doing it. A tattoo artist even came to my office. What more of a sign could I need? It was time to revamp an old tattoo. But with what? This is permanent. I want it to symbolize my passion..my thing.
“What’s my thing?” I thought over and over.
Everyone has a thing!
Shit..I don’t have a thing!
You know that friend who rocks out on a guitar and knows the artist of every song from every decade. Or the friend who can turn a shoddy window frame into a perfectly centered work of art filled with the pictures she took of her perfectly coordinated kiddos in her perfectly designed house. Or how about the friend who logs hours at the gym and rocks the kale smoothies for more than just the month of January. Yeah…none of those people are me. I like music, pictures of my kids, and the gym…but they’re not my thing.
Double shit..how can I not have a thing?
Ok. Let’s start with what I know: I’m a mom of two kids whom I adore (what else would a blogging mom say?…but seriously I want to kiss their faces off like 84% of the time). I have a few pieces of paper on the wall that I spent a huge amount of time, effort, and sacrifice to earn. I look forward to talking to my husband most days…and once in awhile he can still give me butterflies. There are things I like: photography, romantic comedies, live music, traveling (minus the airports and driving…whoever figures out teleporting will be my new hero!), cooking, and being around the people I love. But I’m not sure they’re my thing…
Here’s what else I know: my life has been crazy. I work full time in a somewhat stressful and busy field. My kids are not yet self-reliant (and the day they become self-reliant I will probably lock myself in my bathroom with a bottle of Strawberry Fusion bubbly and a block of colby to sob and look at every baby picture I never found the time to print from my laptop). My husband travels for work and has several hobbies that keep him away from the house more than I like. My days involve “potty”, work, trying to serve supper before 7pm (and hoping for it to be something that doesn’t involve tortillas…what is it with my kids and tortillas?!), trying to get my fucking 10,000 steps, and not eating ice cream every night. I’m a thirty-something working mama who is feeling a bit jaded and passionless.
Is my focus off? Am I boring? Passionless? Is it normal to have a thing? Or more normal to be a melting pot of likes with no huge passions. And thus began my internal musings…of a crazy working mom.
Light bulb: My life is funny. My kids are funny. I could share my story. It might only be my sleep-deprived nursing friends who read it…but maybe this journaling of my musings will help me find my passions. Maybe it will make you laugh, cry, try something new, feel grateful, feel confident, feel anything at all. Maybe it will put you to sleep…some of you need that too. I know it.
Game on.