Creating an On-Purpose Life

I'm preoccupied with purpose. You might even say I'm consumed. It's been brewing for quite some time (likely around the time I decided to leave academia and stay home with Yogi), but it has really launched into fever pitch since the new year began.

At 25 days into 2012, I have spent the bulk (maybe ALL?) of my non-Yogi, non-wife, non-task driven time thinking about this question of purpose.

What am I here to do?

How should I prepare myself for what comes next?

How am I using what I've got to contribute to something meaningful?

Being home with Yogi and nurturing my family was and is a decision that's all about purpose. I spent years (and I do mean YEARS) preparing for the career I left to stay home and the decision wasn't an easy one. It was scary to take such a risk (what if I couldn't get back in the game?), but at a certain point it was clear. There is no other way to say it. I thought and thought and prayed and meditated and prayed and talked endlessly with my wife and then there it was. The answer.

I would hop off the career track and stay home with the baby.

It was right for my family.

It was right for me.

I'm not sure who it was that said it, but I love the idea of living life on purpose. It is a kind of inner-directed purpose that has driven every major decision in my life. Again and again I have followed this pattern of being faced with the question of what to do next, turning it over and over and over in my mind and then suddenly (poof!) the answer just comes.

It doesn't come when I call it, but it does come and when it does, everything is clear. Just like that. I know what I'm meant to do and I move forward trusting deeply in the rightness of it. I'm telling you this because I haven't gotten to the clarity with this one yet . I'm probably not even close. Here's what I know for sure so far:

I won't be home forever. Yogi and Monkey will go to pre-school and then onto regular school and I will have increasingly empty spaces in my day.

Bringing actual money into this house would (in spite of all I know about the value I am bringing now) feel fabulous. I like to pitch in and do my part and making a financial contribution is very safe space for me. The fact that I am emotionally capable of allowing my wife to shoulder the financial burden for our family is one of the most significant statements of the degree of trust and safety I have in this relationship. It's a big deal. I'm totally weird about money.

I want to find (create?) work that will allow me significant flexibility. Not only am I impossibly independent and off the charts on “need for autonomy”, but I have kids. I would love to be home after school and available for meetings and field trips and whatever it is that happens at school.

I want to write something that lots of people will read. Something that is meaningful and maybe even useful. Something that has to do with families like ours.

STRANGE REAL-TIME INTERRUPTION

I am writing this in a coffee shop and was pausing after that last sentence when I started tuning into the conversation at the next table. Beside me is a maybe 8 year old girl with her father. They have been working on what looks like some kind of school assignment for the last little bit. I just realized that the little girl is reading a passage over and over and this is what it is:

Ask, and it shall be given you

Seek, and ye shall find

Knock, and it shall be opened unto you

Now they are discussing it. How crazy is that?!!!

BACK TO THE ACTUAL POST

The trouble is that I'm not sure what that looks like yet.  What form it might take.  I'm wrestling with it and although whatever change comes will be a few years off, I want to be ready for it.  I like to be prepared, to have the ground work all laid out.

But.... I'm not there yet.  For now, I'm just making myself available for what comes.  I guess what I'm doing is asking and seeking and knocking. That sounds pretty zen, doesn't it?  Only because you can't hear my fingers tapping on the table beside the keyboard.

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The Shape of My Days with Yogi at 17 Months

I’m such a creature of habit that every time we settle into a new groove that seems to hold for more than a few days, I’m over the moon.  We’ve been in this particular groove long enough to create a record of it.

5:00 - Mama Wake-Up

I’ve started setting my alarm for crazy early because this is the only time of day that I can reliably get to myself.  It’s just me, my coffee, a book and my laptop.

6:30ish - Yogi Wake-Up

Although he occasionally shows signs that he notices its’ absence there is no warm bottle when Yogi wakes up these days.  There are lots of snuggles though.  Most of the time he wakes up happy and chatty, but there are mornings that begin much earlier (5ish) and with tears.  Snuggles are better.

7:00 - Breakfast

The boy is still eating his super porridge each morning, now with a side of milk in the sippy cup.  Four mornings a week he also gets a hard-boiled egg yolk stirred in.  I jazz things up with banana and occasionally blueberries, which Yogi calls “bee-bees”.  Last week we got him a new high chair that pushes right up to the table allowing him to eat with his bowl on the table sans tray. 

8:00 - Getting Ready for the Day

Getting dressed seems to get more challenging every day.  Gone is the baby who would lay (mostly still) on the changing table and allow his clothes (and diaper for that matter) to be changed without a whole lot of trouble.  These days the changing table is a no go for wardrobe change.  After making a choice between two shirt options (I think this is fun and he loves to point to his choice - if there is a car on one of them, that will be the winner) I unzip his pj’s and he walks them over to the hamper and tosses them in.  In between playing with toys, I manage to get on a shirt, some pants and a pair of socks.  This usually takes somewhere between five and fifteen minutes.

8:00 - Heading out of the House

The day seems to go better when we get out of the house bright and early.  On school days (Tuesday and Thursday) we head for school and on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays we typically go to one of the following places:

Story Time at the library
Play date at a friend’s house
Grocery shopping

11:30 - Lunch

Another change in the meal routine is that Yogi finally has his own stool that allows him to stand in front of the sink and wash his hands without being dangled.  Unfortunately this does not mean that he enjoys washing his hands, but we’re doing what we can.  We’ve got the stool and we sing songs and try not be frustrated and I guess that’s all we can do.  I’ve mentioned that he’s now eating from his own plate, but I continue to be wowed by it.  Things like yogurt that have to be spooned are still fed by us most of the time, but he likes to do a few of the spoonfuls himself and he’s surprisingly coordinated.

11:45 - Stories and Wind-Down

By the time lunch is complete and everything has been cleaned up, Yogi is ready to go upstairs for nap.  He takes the stairs on his own these days and when he gets to the top he marches straight to his crib and points for his lovey and paci.  We are still using the paci at nap, but we’ve been talking lately about breaking that bond.  Anyone have tips?  I’m thinking cold turkey is the way to go, but would love to hear from you if you’ve been there, done that.

We do a diaper change and then pick two books to read in his rocking chair.  He’s gotten bossy about which book we start with and there are some days when he doesn’t care about reading at all.  If he gets fidgety while we rock, I tell him that he can snuggle or get in the crib and he is able to let me know very clearly which choice he prefers.

Noon - Nap

I use nap time to eat lunch, check email and do whatever chores needs to be done around the house.  Trying to clean the bathrooms/mop the floors/sweep/dust with Yogi has become an increasingly bad idea.  He prefers to be right.in.the.middle of everything I do and I prefer not to spend any more time than I have to in the service of housework, so I‘ve shifted these tasks to nap time.  I’ve also been cutting reality TV out of my nap-time routine and not only do I feel less ridiculous, but I’ve been getting more done.  Go me!

2:00 - Afternoon Playtime

We usually spend this time at home doing something like:

Going for a walk with the dog
Playing outside in the yard or at the neighborhood park
Playing with toys in our play area

4:15 - Preparing for Dinner

Keeping Yogi entertained while I cook is not always easy.  He now understands what I am doing and that dinner will be coming soon and he usually starts rubbing his belly (which he believes to be the sign for “please”) feverishly.  I hold him off with milk and bites of banana.

5:00 - Mommy’s Home and Dinnertime

When Mommy gets home, it’s time for dinner.  I usually have the food ready to go and when my wife gets home she feeds him while I clean up the kitchen.  Dealing with the dog is a big hurdle at this time of day as he gets excited about the fact that everybody is home and he gets VERY excited about Yogi’s dinner.  Recently Yogi has begun finding it quite fun to share his food with Baker which nobody (well except the two of them) likes.  We’re working on keeping him in a stay in the living room while Yogi eats and that’s working pretty well.

6:00 - Bath Time

After dinner and Mommy playtime it’s time for Tub.  The boy still loves the water and he is a huge splasher.  I’m usually buzzing around the house while all of this is going on, but it’s fun to pop in and watch the two of them together.

7:00 - Yogi Bed Time

My wife still does bed time, but now Yogi gives me a HUGE goodnight hug while saying “Ba, Ba!” before the two of them head for his bedroom.  I LOVE it.  She reads him a few books and they snuggle and nurse a bit before she puts him in the crib.

7:30 - Mommy and Mama Time

When my wife comes downstairs with the monitor we sit down to eat dinner.  Afterwards we usually watch something on TV (we’re totally into Lie to Me at the moment) before heading upstairs for reading/talking/adult time.

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Savoring a Quiet House

Yogi went back to school this morning.  For the first time since mid-December we were dressed, packed (with


Lunch in school approved container
Milk
3 diapers with "Yogi" written in my hasty hand
Complete change of clothes
Lovey and pacifier (for nap)
Happy Nappy - 


yes that is it's actual trade name), and in the car by 8:45.  Fifteen minutes later I was home.


All.by.myself.


The bliss of it was overpowering.  I plugged my (audio - obviously) book into the speakers and listened to something of my very own choosing while I prepared a simple breakfast.  Scrambled eggs with salsa and a thick, buttered slice of sourdough bread warm and crisp from the toaster.  I sat down (!!!) in an actual chair and ate at my very own pace.  Chewing and sipping my coffee and listening to a story unfold all around me.  The whole thing lasted no more than twenty minutes, but they were mine and mine alone. 


This is what has been the most challenging for me about staying at home.  I love Yogi and I love my wife and I can think of no one whom I would rather spend time with, but sometimes I make my own best company.


I have a lot of practice.


I was 32 years old when Yogi arrived and I had spent the vast majority of those years with myself as my own primary side-kick.  


I'm an only child
I've never enjoyed a crowd
I'm quiet and bookish
I favor small, intimate groups


There are all sorts of reasons I suppose, but all of them get back to one, simple truth.


Sometimes it's wonderful to be alone.

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The Emotional Side of Stay at Home Mommyhood

A few posts ago I tackled the task-y side of being a Stay at Home Mom, but I didn't really get into the emotional piece.  I didn't talk about what it FEELS like.  That's always quite a bit more complicated isn't it?

It seems to me that career issues have a lot (mostly?) to do with how we see ourselves.  Who am I in the world and what do I have to offer?  From my earliest memories, I have been most fascinated by the inner life.  What people think about and why, how they decide to do the things they do and why any of it matters.  Throughout my life I have occupied the curious space of being at once drawn to and overwhelmed by other people.  I imagine this is one of the reasons why I love to read in the manic way I do.  A book affords me a safe distance from which to ogle and wonder without the pesky need to bounce the conversational ball.

Initially this made a career as a high school English teacher seem to be the obvious choice.  During my first few years in college I took classes in both the English and Psychology departments with HS teaching as my goal.  Then the Psych classes got me.  During the semester that I took both Abnormal and Social psych I realized that it was psychology that drove my interest in everything else.  My love of reading had always been about the characters and if I shifted my focus to Psychology I wouldn't have to deal with the mind-numbing minutia of grammar and I would have to pursue further degrees, a huge bonus for school-loving me.

I went on to pursue graduate study in psychology and as much as it's possible to love a doctoral program, I did.  The classes were fascinating and the process of research was comforting somehow, suggesting that there might just be a way to get answers about the murky world of the human psyche.  Like so many other things, I didn't so much enjoy the doing of research, but I loved the idea of it.  As part of my program, I was expected to teach undergraduates and I found that it suited me even better than I had imagined it might.  Much to the dismay of my professors (who were training researchers, damnit!), I set my sights on an academic job at a small, liberal arts college.  I didn't want graduate students and I didn't want to spend all my time in the narrow domain of my training.  I wanted to get people excited about psychology broadly, excited about their own lives and possibility.  I wanted to be a part of the process of someone seeing themselves and their life in a new way.  I wanted to help people understand their world more completely.

During the six years I spent in full-time, tenure-track university teaching, I was mostly able to do that.  I found that as the "expert" at the front of the room, I could manage a large group of people.  I was dynamic, I was engaging, when we talked about personality my students were shocked to learn that I was an introvert.  I guided small groups of students pursuing their own research and cherished the intimate space that this kind of pursuit afforded me.  I met one-on-one with students to weigh in on matters academic and more frequently than I ever would have imagined, deeply personal.

These jobs were not perfect and there is much about the work of a professor that has nothing to do with students or one's area of expertise.  There are committees and faculty meetings and psychotic (truly in my case) colleagues and SACS reviews and wearing "the outfit" at endless ceremonies and graduations and students that don't seem to care about their own lives and inconsistent AC systems and... perhaps I should stop there.  No job is without frustration, but there are many things about the work of a faculty member that fits nicely with my particular constellation of personality and skills.

In the middle of all this career-mindedness, my wife and I decided to have a baby.  Prior to meeting my wife, when I had thought about my life it had always involved children.  Children in daycare.  I was a daycare kid myself and I come from a socioeconomic and geographic (suburbia) background in which everyone goes to daycare.  Both parents work and there is neither Nanny nor Grandparent in the daily picture.  I hadn't prepared myself for a career that would single-handedly support a family and didn't imagine I would partner with someone who had.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself marrying and planning a family with an MD, or as my mother likes to call her, a REAL doctor.  My previous girlfriend had been a German born, American Studies doctoral candidate who was writing a dissertation on the Beat poets.  This was much more par for the course.  By the time my wife and I were planning a move in order to begin her career, it was clear that sending our child to daycare would be a choice for us and not an imperative.  Oh choices.....

The original decision for me to stay home with Yogi was made easier by a whole host of factors, not the least of which was the fact that no local universities were looking for psychologists.  That fact combined with my wife's eight measly (we thought) weeks of maternity leave made the idea of my sitting out the year and staying home with the baby a pretty attractive one.  This was where we stood in our thinking on the issue a year ago when Yogi was born.

In the intervening twelve months all sorts of things have happened.  The most important is that I have fallen in love with Yogi and this family that the three of us are creating.  My attachment to these two overwhelms me.  I spent the first few months of Yogi's life marveling (questioning?) what I had done to deserve all of this.  These days I just try to pause long enough each day to say "thank you".

This work is both more challenging and more satisfying than I would have predicted.  Until spending days on end with a baby as my only companion, I never knew how much I feed on praise and approval.  As sad as it is to admit, I think what I miss most about teaching is the adoration.  Pathetic, no?  I can read books and articles and even discuss them with other people thanks to the internet, but I can't hold a room spellbound in a story or see that look in someone's eye that means "Wow!  I've never thought about it that way!".  My wife is quick with appreciation, but even she can't compete with the kind of feedback I had grown accustomed to.  This is not to say that I garnered only approval in my previous life, but I reveled in what I did get.

My life as a SAHM/housewife/whatever we're calling it these days doesn't offer many opportunities for praise.  As it turns out, being appreciated for my ability to keep a clean house is more likely to raise my hackles than stroke my ego.  It's a landmine really and I appreciate my wife's willingness to navigate it even after being singed on more than one occasion.  I will happily accept any and all kind words about my cooking though.  Humm.... funny how that works.

The other HUGE challenge for me is that I have so very little say in our daily schedule.  Although Yogi is a pretty predictable guy once he has settled into a routine, that routine is a moving target.  We may hold a pattern for weeks on end only to shift into another that lasts only a few days.  This is less than desirable for two big reasons.  One is that it is FABULOUS to make plans with other people.  Both Yogi and I enjoy being out in the world and as he gets older he's beginning to remember other kids and get excited when he sees them.  Being the prompt, punctual, obscenely reliable person that I am, it is hard to make a plan with someone and then have to cancel.  I HATE that.  Hate, Hate, Hate.  However, Yogi is teaching me that sometimes you just have to go with the flow.  Apologize for breaking the date and let it go.  Life really is too short.

The other reason that this shifting schedule thing is a pain is that nap time is MY time and I prefer to know when it will be coming.  You know, bc that way I can plan my time. ;).  Laugh if you will (and likely should), but if I've set my intention beforehand I'm much more likely to follow through and get that charge of productivity.  If it sneaks up on me, I'll often just say to hell with it and watch reality TV and that is good for no one.

Although it's easier to talk about the challenges (guilt, anyone?), the rewards are far greater.  Maybe I should explain the guilt for a second (this post isn't nearly long enough).  Not everyone gets to do this.  Not everyone has this privilege.  The privilege of making this decision for themselves and their family.  The freedom afforded by a spouse who spent 11 years in medical training preparing herself to do the kind of work that would mean that my earning potential would be helpful, but not required.  The freedom that her decisions have afforded me in my career path as they have narrowed and focused her own.  These things weigh on me.  They don't overshadow the joy and gratitude, but they texture it with a certain sadness.

But..... the rewards.  If you've stuck with me this far, you've earned some reward, no?  The big one is that my life is about creating a safe, nurturing home environment for my family.  A space that is clean and comfortable and safe.  An emotional temperature that is (mostly) calm and loving and supportive.   I have the time and the energy to focus on what seems to me at this moment in my life to be the most important.

My son has gotten outside for walks in the sunshine with his dog on most of the days of his life.  He has been snuggled into just about every nap and bedtime by one of his Mommies or one of his Grandparents.  My wife and I have had the opportunity to prepare fresh, whole and nutritious meals that make us feel like good parents.  I am able to take care of the house and run errands during the week so that the weekend can be wholly devoted to family time.

There are days when I feel like what I want most in the world is to sit in a very quiet room all by myself, but then Yogi grins his goofy grin or I can hear the two of them chattering together from the kitchen and nothing else matters.  It's all right here and I'm grateful to take my spot in the midst of it.

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