Confessions

Apparently I am never satisfied.

Lately, I've been having the thought that I would rather go back to work than be a stay-at-home mom.  Ethan's a great baby, but he requires so much time, attention, and energy amd I'm having a hard time keeping up with him and being happy at the same time.  I thought that I was feeling down because Josh was gone, but it turns out that the overarching bummed out feeling didn't disappear with his return.  I've been depressed.

I was thinking about all this, trying to place my finger on exactly why and how I could feel so down when, while I was a working woman, I always believed I'd be happier as a mommy.   Having yet again not found my "thing," I only felt more disappointed in myself and in my life as a whole.  I have all the Christianese answers to the big question, but in specificity, don't know why I am here or what I'm supposed to be doing.

I took all these issues with me to church this Easter Sunday, wondering, hoping that at the very least, I'd leave with a bit more joy.  (It's an extra terrible feeling to approach Easter without appropriate amounts of joy.)  Like every other Sunday, Ethan and I vacated the sanctuary and headed for the nursing mom's room just before the sermon.  As our congregation has recently had a baby boom, I was joined by four other mommy friends and their wee ones.  As I looked around the room at Hannah doing tummy time, Rachel sleeping, Raechel being rocked, and Abbey flipping through a book while all of their moms smiled at their baby's little accomplishments, my heart skipped a beat. 

I realized at that moment what was missing.  In actuality, I *do* love being a stay-at-home mom. The problem isn't my job, it's my environment.  Even though I know how to be by myself, it doesn't mean I should be.  As I sat in that small room watching my friends being great mothers, I couldn't help but imagine us in the days that Jesus walked the earth, when women didn't raise children in isolation... when it would be normal and expected to eat, sleep, and live in extremely close proximity with extended family and friends.   

As an only child who's also a homebody, it was an interesting discovery:  The problem is our society. I need community.