Transitions

My son has been in Montessori preschool for almost a month now, and we are all beginning to adjust. His days, I'm told, are full of laughter and discovery, and the teachers falling more in love with him all the time. He's a charmer, this one. Of course, when he gets home it's a different story--post-nap irritability, clingy tendencies, tantrums. He really does save the drama for his mama, and he's still adjusting to being away from me. But things are settling down, and I'm no longer crying every day after drop-off, lamenting the milestones I'm missing while he's out of my sight. Often, I see the results of his learning at home, and I feel joyful that he's discovering new things, even if I'm not there for all of them.

Now, I'm focusing more on me. And it's not an easy thing to do.

I really don't feel much like writing about my liminal state--about being in between. But that's what it is. And it's uncomfortable. I want it to be over already, with the next phase fully begun. I'm not there yet, though. I'm not quite sure what I want to do and what is best for all of us, so I'm standing in the unknown.

I'm doing some soul searching and writing, but honestly most of my mornings (I pick him up from school in early afternoon) are full of mind-numbing chores like laundry, dishes and errands, listening to NPR and for a week or so there, binge-watching a TV show while doing so. Now I've stopped doing that and there's a lot of silence. I'm trying to sit with the silent discomfort and not push it away. I have a feeling it has guidance for me.

I could rush out and just get another job quickly, probably. But I have the privilege right now of having some choice. I do need to start bringing income again, but I can sit in the silence for a short time. I can stand in the transition and breathe. There are few things more difficult than dwelling between the not-anymore and the not-yet, but here I am. Dwelling. Or at least lingering in the doorway.

I don't know how to end this post. But that makes perfect sense, doesn't it?