It’s been two months since I’ve blogged about anything. This is probably going to be pretty train of thought, so bear with me.
We have been so fortunate to become home owners instead of renters but the move went horribly, horribly wrong. We unknowingly rented too small of a moving truck (Thanks so much Uhaul!), had to postpone the move a day because we bit off far more than we could chew (which was entirely my fault) and didn‘t have the packing done (after literally staying up day and night and sleeping in 2 to 4 hour shifts to try and get stuff done), and because of both we were not able to move everything on our “moving day” and had to make many, many car trips back and forth between the apartment and our new home and then ultimately spent $700 to hire movers to just get it done (I was in tears most of the time) and an additional $150 to hire a cleaning crew to clean the apartment because I was just too strung out from all the drama to deal with it. Then, once we moved in, we discovered that we have an ant infestation (that we are still battling) and found out our homeowner’s insurance company dropped us because they didn’t like the look of the trees in our front yard (one of which was a neighbors‘) because the angle in which the pictures were taken makes it appear that we had trees touching the house. We had to fight that and trim a stupidly small amount back just so they could come and take more pictures at the same, stupid angle and suddenly say, “OK! Thanks for correcting the (non-existant) problem.”
To add to all of this, the former owner was…shall we say, not clean. We’re not talking visibly Hoarders dirty, but just, “haven’t washed hands in ages” dirty which resulted in a thick layer of black grime on every switchplate and surface in the place and four toilet seats that HAD to be replaced because, and I say this honestly, bleach couldn’t cut through the pee caked on them. Please know that I am not exaggerating on that. It really, truly was that dirty. She also kindly left grody, uncleaned bathrooms, and a kitchen in serious and dire need of cleaning. But hey, she left me all of the used toothbrushes I could possibly want along with a serious stockpile of mothballs and “air neutralizers”. I’m only just now getting the smell of mothballs out of my house. I can forgive maintenance issues or say, grimy windows and some dust because hey, we have tall ceilings and she was probably in her sixties, but I cannot forgive caked on pee to the point I just have to trash the seat and buy new. Not to mention the pee on door frames and molding in the bathrooms. (And before you ask – she didn’t have any pets and the pee was where, say, a hand might touch if you were steadying yourself as you walked out the door.)
I have spent the last two months cleaning, unpacking, trying to put away, catching up on over 40 loads of laundry (yep, I counted), clipping months worth of coupons and basically trying to stay afloat. Things are getting better and more back to normal, but I still have days where I am frustrated and tired and depressed about how this all went terribly wrong and because my house is still in utter chaos. I wanted to show all of you how to be organized movers. I wanted to act as inspiration, but I failed. Miserably. And I’m still digging out.
And this move has been more than just about the house. It’s been about who I am and where I’m at too.
I’m not even sure HOW to start blogging again. I’m depressed about that too. When I started blogging, I felt like I had something to offer, but then other blogs, far younger than mine, soon racked up thousands of fans, magazine spreads and TV spots and, while I’m not doing this for the fame, it’d be nice to gain some ground and feel like I’m good at it – but instead I feel like I’m just one in millions who probably won’t make it. I’m not begging for compliments or sympathy here, I’m just being honest.
Is being a stay at home wife valuable if I‘m not a mom? Should I be a blogger? Am I wasting my time here?
I struggle with this question a lot. I am, by all accounts, an intelligent, college-educated woman who holds a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education. I spent five years working full time post college. So, am I basically “wasting” my time staying home?
I wish I could tell you that I stay at home for a noble reason like “God led me to this.” or “We feel it’s best for our family.” or “Well it’s for the kids.” It’s really none of those reasons. I stay at home because I lost my job and my will to work because of really crappy things that happened my last year of teaching and I was too depressed and traumatized to go back to the career I poured so much of my life and soul into.
I was a good teacher. I was passionate about being an educator. I refused to compromise my integrity and work in an unethical manner and lie to parents just to retain their hefty tuition and I was vocal about it – and it cost me my passion, my job and my feeling of worth. I was a teacher…I ended up a scarred and burnt out shell. I miss teaching sometimes, but I’m still too shell-shocked to go back.
Now, I am a stay at home wife. Wife. Not mother. Frankly, I’m not even sure we’re going to have children. And that makes me wonder if what I do as a wife has any value at all. Sure I work hard cleaning and doing laundry, and trying to save us money, but is that really worth anything? I tutor occasionally, but it doesn’t feel like much of a contribution on my part and honestly, it doesn‘t bring me joy anymore either. Hubby tells me I don‘t have to work because he makes enough for me to stay home, and that’s true. We don’t need the money. I don’t have to work.
Bottom line: I’m depressed an anxious – part of which is due to a massive anxiety issue that I don’t normally discuss here.
In the beginning, I tried to suck up my depression and frame things in a different light. “Well, I’m just blessed I don’t have to work.” (And I really, truly am. That blessing is not lost on me, really.) Then, I started this blog in the hopes that I could find some success there and to feel worth something again. To feel like I was contributing and making a difference both in our home and in the community at large, even if only in a small way.
Now, I feel like a failure. I failed as a teacher because I wasn’t willing to play the game. I failed as a blogger because I can’t seem to figure out the magic equation that results in thousands of readers and hundreds of comments. I’m failing as a wife because I can’t seem to get my crap together and get this house in order. I’m not raising the next generation as a mom and I’m moving oh so close to 35 (and I have health issues that will make carrying difficult anyway).
I didn’t intend to take two months off and then I did and now I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel like I can just jump back in like nothing happened, but I feel like all of my “problems” are just excuses. I just want to feel like I’m good at something. Like I’m worth something. I’m tired of feeling like I’ve dropped the ball on life and let you all down, let my husband down and just gave up on an entire career.
Sorry. Just wanted to get it all out there.
