I have always been drawn to children, with their innocent sense of wonder and deep curiosity with the everyday patterns of the world. For this reason, I knew at a young age that I would study Child Development and I also knew that someday I would have children of my own. I eagerly awaited this season, jealously eying the moms running errands in yoga pants from coffeeshops to Whole Foods, daydreaming of Mom Life when I could go about my daily rhythms with a cute tiny baby in tow. Sometimes I catch myself watching this play out before my eyes like a film in which I am the spectator instead of the leading lady. I find myself shocked to be in the role of Mom; that the day is not a distant daydream, it is in fact the reality of the life I live.

I don't struggle with a sense of purpose, because I find such fulfillment in days with Jack. I know that so much of my purpose is claimed by him, and I find that a noble and honorable calling to fulfill. 

However, I struggle with a sense of Belonging. I don't feel at home in the world of moms with older children - conversation topics of field trips and kindergarten teachers; the moms who have casually moved past the realm of diapers and sleep training and seem to look back on those days with a sort of non-envy only a new mom can recognize. While I love our home, I don't feel a strong sense of community on our street of retired folks - who in their best intentions to make us feel welcome, take in our trash and tell us they'll watch over our home while we're gone - which only serves to prove that this world is an unfolding of predictable patterns lacking the spontaneity and stories I thrive on each day. Sometimes I feel like a foreigner in California, having not grown-up in a world of everyday sunshine, surfing, and light layers, I feel a constant heartache for the makeup of my childhood snow forts and fireside hot cocoa. Renovating our home fulfilled deep-seated desires of late-night Pinterest finds and journal-filled design sketches, but to find myself as a stay-at-home mom on the edge of a canyon with only a Target within walkability brings a kind of loneliness that even someone with the #1 strength of Positivity can't rise above. I am left with the question of - Where do I belong? 

I belong as a wife to Benjamin, a mom to Jack, a professor at PLNU. I belong as a friend to our community here and the moms I find myself texting with each day. To those roles I feel connection... but when it's just me going about my daily days, I don't tangibly feel belonging to this rhythm I find myself living. I used to find identity through seeking wonder in even the most mundane but human moments of life - dishes, cleaning, errands - but I now find these events uninspiring and lacking anything of actual worth. I can't seem to sense contentment or an ability to bypass the ordinary and find the extraordinary as I used to somehow be so good at curating in my life. So I've immersed myself in other peoples' stories - podcasts, memoirs, documentaries - with an attempt to insert a glimmer of interesting from their life into mine. I so desperately hope to write my own book, but then I fear I have nothing to contribute - after all, who would read the boring story of my life? The life of waiting for the mailman at 11:30 and taking out the trash bins every Tuesday night? People crave adventure. I have nothing to offer in that realm.

I desire to come alive with the very marrow of life itself, to wake-up with a sense of inspiration unshaken by the day-to-day. But I don't know how. When I found myself stuck in a rut in the past, it has always opened a door to move or travel... but for me now, I feel trapped in the very real fact that this is not an option. Where does that bring me? I live with the internal motivation to do Everything with my life, and yet most days I feel that I have done Nothing. The inner voice tells me it's not enough - give more, do more, be more - but I don't feel the guidance or wisdom to know exactly where or how. I respect the roles with which I identify, but life lacks a strong tie to a community admonished with such deep attachment & affection that I'm led to do just about anything for it.

I don't have answers; only questions, reflections, and thoughts. 

And Jack smiles - always Jack smiles.

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