Brave New World

This was written in Oct 2012.

As I meet more and more new people out here, I keep thinking about an opening to a Stephen King novel.. you know the ones where everything SEEMS all right in the beginning?

I meet more people that come to me and tell me, "You're gonna LOVE it here! Everyone loves it here!"

Everyone is so nice and kind, but I have my guard up. I am waiting to see when reality hits.

I'm weary of new neighbors and besides talking about colleges, degrees, interests and children or where the local grocery store is (there isn't one closer than 25 minutes), I've kept it surface.

I remember the all too well that if you say or do the wrong thing, well, the neighbor is STILL there, so watch your steps.

Also, I am weary of learning about the personality types and about who I can trust. A new friend reminded me that the first person you meet may not really be the BEST person to trust either. And, the person that knows everyone, well, usually KNOWS everyone and talks a lot too.

I feel them making judgments. I realize quickly they don't get my dry sarcasm so I have to explain things like what it means when my husband is "home" now. The girl says, "He works from home?" "No, I say, he's not working til 9 pm. as a principal and pursuing his doctoral degree. He's home at 5 now. It's great!"

I have polite talk with an engineer kindof lady from Aggie land. I try to watch my children at the park and still give her the center of my attention. It's hard work to watch my words, be very polite and watch my kids and try to take in my surroundings.

I think maybe I'll meet my new best friend here and now. I should really try to take it all in. This is a great new start..maybe...

When I first walked up, the lady I met through her husband the other day welcomes me as if she was waiting for me for hours.. And, I meet everyone else she knows.  Suddenly, five people know my name and I stumble to remember just two names. They were all expecting me. I explain I got there about 12 hours ago and been waiting for the cable guy from 1-4. They don't laugh but smile. Looking back, maybe they would have GOT it if I had explained that we literally moved in at noon this very same day and it's 3 pm. here.

Of course, they could have taken that wrong too. See, I am second-guessing everything. I had some tough weird mean people in my other neighborhood so I'm scared. And, I could say the wrong thing and they'd just turn me away or gossip would get going. My friend Carrie, a man in his late 60s who taught tech theatre at the high school I taught with would tell me, "Stay out of the teacher's lounge. If they don't know you, they can't talk about you."

He passed away two years ago in Dec. I still miss him.

And, so this meet up feels like the teacher's lounge. It APPEARS sweet and "safe", but I look for sharks and worry about bored busy bodies that might take something sarcastic I say and RUN with it.. I know, I am being paranoid. I'm just scared.

Scared of caring too much too. I am also hurt.  I miss my friends. One, it just hurt so much once I got sortof settled on Saturday and I just broke down and called her. She never-well, maybe twice in the seven years I've known her, answered the phone on a weekend..but I called.

I told her how much I missed her..no really missed her SO much. So much. Well, it's Monday and haven't even gotten an email. I think I got a FB comment or something. It's been since June 22 or so since I've seen her. And it's been ages since her and I have gotten together and it feels like YEARS since we'd spend one night a week together watching TV like we used to. I miss that SO much. It had become part of me that made me feel complete. I had a constant friend. And, then life changed and it went away.

Perhaps, that's another blog..you see she has family nearby. .and doesn't need me as much as I needed her. WE got through the miscarriages together. It was our time. We had our babies together. She took care of me by watching my oldest when I had my second. She brought me Chick Fil-A when I was sick, we went to movies, we were close for a time. It's silly I can't let go.

I should be stronger than this, right? I've suffered through far more..so why does this feel like I'm attending my own funeral and no one has showed up?

But, the truth is, my friends are my family so maybe that's why it's hard to let go. Not having family near and well, never really depending on my family- -I depend on my friends for spiritual comfort, emotional encouragement and just to be there..

Maybe I have it backwards and Maybe that's why it's harder for ME and not my friends. They HAVE people. They have family apart from their friends..

But everyone is SO far away.. everyone that I could be REAL with. Everyone that KNOWS what the past five years have been like with hubby working nonstop and conflicts that have been sooo hard. This really is a new start.

But, I miss my friends that got me through that time. Part of me blames myself. Maybe they don't call and check on me because they think I am high-maintenance. Or maybe they are tired of me. Or maybe I was as one friend said I was "too much." Maybe I am "too much" thus the surface conversations I've started and trying not to depend on people besides grocery store talks. Now, I See it as I read this. .. I maybe was too much.. I can work on that.. And I AM working on that.

I am not sure.

But, one friend and I have talked over the phone for 30 min and that was wonderful. It was two weeks ago. She never feels too far somehow. One I text throughout the day. The other was a neighbor and she's moved. I still would love to talk to her every day too, but I know time changes and one must let go a little. Darn my bond for life characteristics.

I have three friends in this new place.. One I'd call a relative- -she knew my grandma. She is basically family. I've seen her three times since we came here. She's now um, well an hour a way. The other, my journalism friend lives over that way too. And, another is in a mom's group and she's nearer. In fact, when she moves she will be 5 min away. See, I have leads..

I have a friend Bonnie and she texts me to check on me. So, I guess I am not completely alone.  And, then there's Nicole and leslie and Stacia. I really miss them too. Nicole is running marathons and busy at her church and she's an old friend from college. Haven't seen her in a year. But, in my heart, she still feels close. Leslie and Stacia lived far and I didn't see them as much, but I still miss them too.

So, I am okay. Just watching the sun come up. All I hear is the humming fridge I've inherited, the keys on the keyboard and a darn cricket that won't SHUT up.

It's not bad. It's a growing time. Just hurts to be lonely. To feel like I have to calculate everything I say because no one here even knows my favorite color. I want to hide. I don't even want to see the landscape guy or the skylight guy today.

I'm terrified that I have to pack up kids in the pitch dark driveway tomorrow to take M to school.

I have to be here alone tonight since hubby is out of town. Ironically, in Houston.

I literally feel like an electric wire that has been tossed into a bath of water. All of my circuits are wigging out. I'm in shock. I want to hide to some place of safety. But, there's no place to run.

I have to try all this new stuff. Without a break. A new dentist. I HATE the dentist. New doctors. New people. It's a brave new world- -but I'm not feeling so brave.

How to sell a house- -blunt ways to save your sanity

Over the past two years I knew we were moving. I knew my husband was changing jobs eventually and, I just had a gut feeling a major change was coming.

We put the house on the market the first year, seven viewings in 11 months. Two realtors. One wasn't at all like her bubbly video or picture when I met her. She turned sarcastic when I wouldn't lower my price after the first sixty days.  The other realtor was nice, but clearly a retired worker that did this to pay for yearly cruises. With her, we got one showing all summer. The showing cancelled. And, two miraculously when we were about to run out of time on her contract.

Then, in April of the next year, I got the bug to try again. So, we staged the house, did all of the pictures and started again. This time, I went with the town realtor. His pictures reminded me of Beetleguise movie trailer clips, but everyone knew him and so I thought I'd give him a try. In four months, this time we had 25 showings.

He was a nice guy, but soon, I learned he only was the face of the company, he worked mostly part time because of his famousness (he came in Prada glasses) and his crew did most of the grunt work. After two weeks he was suddenly not returning emails but referring me. Even, as I was eager to learn every step of the way.

I was a plyable, eager student. But, I soon learned my place. Selling a home in the 145k range, doesn't get you a great-range of service...I know I was over eager.. I kept hearing, "Well in your price range.. or THOSE houses..etc etc." We were selling a four bed, two and half bath, 2300 home out side of a major city.  It wasn't a $3-500,000 deal. Realtors don't do backbends for 8 grand. And, in the end, I ended up paying 6K to close after living in the home for 9 years. I paid their closing costs and came away with nothing but an escrow check thirty days later.

I also asked everyone what they were doing to sell their homes. Most didn't answer bluntly. Most, lied. Or, most just changed the subject. I dug and dug. I heard all sorts of excuses and "reasons" for homes not selling. But, I never got the "real" story until I was in the trenches myself.

Friday, after six months and two years of on the market "fun" our house finally closes. As I look back, I can remember each room. The nursery. The tree in the back yard. The kitchen. The living room and all the work we did. All of the memories. And, I feel a little of something, but most of what I felt was lost through the process of selling. I only cried when I painted the baby blue walls neutral and when I had to kiss our beloved tree out back goodbye.

I also had to have a circle of friends and family nearby to call. I had my share of rantings, tears, angry fits, prayers crying out in agony will this ever end type days.. It was a LONG stretch.

It was as I refer to it as a "slow divorce," but maybe my tips will help someone else. Here it is: tips to save your sanity..when you try to sell a home in 2012. Blunt, but real.

Blunt tips for selling your house

1.     Pick a realtor everyone knows. These people know everyone and they can get more of their buddies to see your house.  It's like picking the prom king. Pick the popular guy or gal. Don’t pick someone with a nice picture in a small company. Pick the town realtor big wig. He or she will have a crew of people dependent on selling the house. And no matter who you choose, they are bound to turn a little annoying after the first week or two. When you first meet them they become your instant buddy (aka eager to get your signature for any dance) then, things change. Quickly.  It’s a business. It’s smoke and mirrors. And, at the end of the day, the price sells the house. That and prayer and patience.

2.     Or, pick a realtor that’s somewhat new with a small office and no staff and that realtor will still be green enough to care and the job will get done. That's how we bought our new home.

3.     Prepare to lose about 16 grand. In this market, think about what you’d LIKE to sell for and mark it down 10 grand, then wait. Budget to mark it down another 5 grand WITH repairs. Be prepared for the buyers to ask for the world. Be prepared to be angry. We tried to sell for 154. The house sold for $147, with us paying closing costs and 500 in repairs and two months of delay with closing dates.

4.     Prepare in that budget to give closing costs too. Now people have to have a down payment and another 5 grand for closing and they can’t get loans so it truly is a buyer’s market. But you will make it up when you buy.

5.     Your pictures online are a pretty big deal. Work hard at making those count.

6.     And, sadly take down all of your family pictures.  Mine sold the DAY AFTER I did this. Even one picture in the hallway, take it down. I know, it’s YOUR house, no, for three to six months, it’s a museum that you must try to pretend you don’t actually live in.

7.     Don’t get emotional. It’s a house. It’s a slow divorce. Be prepared to feel and go a little crazy with this constant cleaning thing. Especially if you have kids and pets. Also, be prepared for the dodge ball experience. The phone rings for a showing. The house is a mess. You’ve got ten minutes to clean and get out of the house. And, after all of that, they may not even show up. Or, they may give you feedback that will blow your mind (i.e. the walls are too short).

8.     When they come to see the house, if you want, stick a card in the front door jam so you know they came. Leave and don’t watch the house. You will drive yourself crazy. And, most of the time you may have no idea if they actually came. It’s a thankless torture.

9.     Clean, leave and try not to think about it. But you will agonize over every detail, every comparable house in the neighborhood, etc.

10. Don’t make too much of the online feedback. Half of the time they are not correct feedback postings. Most of the agents are lazy. Don’t expect much feedback.

11.  Don’t hang around when they inspect your house. It’s awkward. And take a deep breath before you read the inspection report. It will feel like someone is criticizing your first-born child’s baby photos.

12.  Be prepared to haggle. Be prepared for pitfalls, for things to change instantly and to have to start all over. I remember sitting there watching the people come in and out of the house on the edge of my car seat biting my nails. Kids and dog in car, we had cleaned for two hours and circled the house for two hours so that it could have a five minute showing. It was brutal.

13. Keep your head high. Keep looking for your new house. This will keep your spirits up. Remember, it will be over, eventually.  And, you will walk away a little angry, but your new house will be better and you, like those who bought your house, can ask for the world and expect it in this market.  And, you never know what tomorrow will bring. Like, my friend Natalie kept telling me, "It's going to sell. It's going to sell," this chant kept my spirits high.  Keeping this in mind kept the Eeyore in me from taking over.

Good-bye dorm experience

Walking thru the halls of the YMCA, backpack on my pack, shower shoes in tow, I feel like I’m at the UH dorm again. It's a mini vacation..of sorts...

It’s been my escape for three months now. Drop off kids and run to the cycles and silenced TVs.

I’d escape to the walking trails and call a friend or just watch the trees for a while.

Today I spend time hiding in a corner grading feverously. I had 4 hours of work to get done in 2 hours.  In fact, when someone said hello, I jumped. Free wi-fi and chaos.

People pushing from behind my chair to reach for coffee. Employees complaining about the broken snack machine. They gab loudly behind me. I can tell the other worker doesn't really want to talk.

Flashing around me were noises of all kinds. A boy bounced a basketball like a drum, a baby SCREAMED, a child blared a Mario video game on the Iphone.  It was a circus around me. It was my “study lounge” for a time. It almost drove me crazy.  I had the focus of a ninja.

I remember showering there a couple of times. Balancing on my flip flops and changing in small corner. Watched the water drain like the Nile winding around the room. Nothing like community showers. 

I pretend I get to get away from it all. I dress. Wring out my hair and blow dry. I pretend I have a great place to go- -not picking up the kids and heading home. I pretend the night is about endless surprises and nothing is on a schedule.

For a moment, I walk around the winding halls in peace. Take a breath and then, pick up the kids. Adventure out to the car, refreshed.

Today I caught a glimpse of my kids being restless. They were kicking and playing fight. It was boy stuff. I am glad I saw this because I would have been much harder on them if I hadn't seen the tone of their actions at the time.

The larger mean type lady- -the personality type I am learning to spot and STAY away from immediately these days- -at the childcare made sure to tell me when I picked them up with the same smurk she had when she told me I couldn’t place my stroller there a month ago. I said, “I am folding it up and putting it away.” She had pounced on me before I had a chance to explain.

Today she pounced on me again. 

I said, “This is our last Saturday here.”

She smurked and said sheepishly, “Well they are welcome anytime,” as to pull away from her stance. Or, as if to interpret me as fighting back. 

I said, “Yep, they’ve been rowdier. They’ve been pretty good actually. You see we’ve been living in a one bedroom apartment for three months now,"I continued, "Five people. One bedroom. It's been really    tough."

I started to cry. She said, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I said, “We had to huddle while we sold our Houston home. We move next week.”

She was then nicer, “My girls get that way at the end of summer after too much time together. They have to get away from each other.”

She then smiled and started to act differently. I am glad for this ending. If only she started out this way, it would have changed my response.

It was another dorm experience scenario- -a close quarter place where neighbors are forced friends.

My first phone call in Austin was at this YMCA. My first break from the kids from these very close quarters was at the YMCA. I still have the three tags from the Houston YMCA. They won't come off my key ring. 

Sentimental at times still too. So much has changed since I came here. This has become my small little city- -in a place where I knew no one.

My first 4 miles on the cycles. My first French 78-yr-old friend was at this YMCA.

I feel like I’ve graduated. I’ll miss this place.

Joy personified: A Fairy godmother comes to life.

I remember my grandmother very well, but perhaps she came alive for me again just yesterday.

Painted inside a meal with an old friend that was more like a big sister to me than a "cousin's ex-wife's niece," she recalled the many moments we spent together with my grandmother her "fairy godmother."

I met my cousin, sister, friend Nan when she was twelve. I was nine. My first picture of her in my memory is of her sitting at the foot of a Christmas tree in my grandmother's condo. The lights on the tree aglow in the dark-lit room. She was wearing a white Mexican-style dress with embroidered red flowers.

It was the beginning of a sweet and dear friendship.

Over my summers growing up I spent MOST of my time with my grandmother. We'd visit my aunt in Victoria, Texas, we'd stay in hotels, order room service, play in the pool and explore the world.

When I got old enough, grandma would let me drive the country roads.  I remember the Holiday Inn well, covered in green. And the smell of the food and plastic wrapped over coffee and creamer when the waiter would bring the food in from the hallway. It was never too late for room service.

I remember TV and indoor/outdoor pools. Chlorine and endless holiday trips. Shopping too, of course.

We'd visit my aunt's place, ride horses, see chickens, count cats and I'd spend endless hours playing in the green fields surrounding my aunt's home. And, Nan would be there with me sometimes too.

Nan would pop in and we'd enjoy adventure together. The memories of her are so vivid perhaps because I looked up to her so much. I remember conversations. I remember the Hard Rock Cafe pin she wore on her blouse. I remember what her room looked like and the blue dangle earrings she got when she turned 13 at her roller skating party.

I remember when Nan was finally 16 and she got her driver's license, we'd leave my aunt and grandma at Luby's to go "motor" or aka drive around the block to basically nowhere. It didn't matter. We were cool. Yes, we'd let the keys jingle so everyone knew we could drive. DRIVE!

She named that old Ford Escort "Nutter Butter" because it was a butter color. And, I was there when she wrecked it too. At a stoplight near a mall. We hit the person in front of us as the person behind us smacked our bumper. The rear-view mirror slammed to the backseat and the bumper fell to the street.

A policeman came. Nan cried endlessly at the foot of the hotel bed, "It wasn't my fault," shaken up by the whole experience.

Nan and I would attend a dance after her drillteam kick routine and football game. Then we'd decide it was boring, a boy would hitch a ride with us to a party with older folk that lived in a real house. No adults. The college boys were playing cards at the kitchen table downstairs and then we'd go to another "party" where not much was going on, just people gathering and talking. It was more about being seen than really doing anything.

It was about the essence of freedom. Or the seemingly seamless attempt to authenticate it.

Yesterday after many years apart, Nan and I were together again.  Well, we met for a day briefly last spring for the first time since high school. The kids played in the water at the beach condo and it was nothing short of lovely. She introduced me to Provolone grilled-cheese sandwiches and how to swim with three kids in a pool with just two mommy arms.

And, yesterday, she texts me to get me out for her birthday. She offers and MAKES me come, she picks me up and takes me try sushi at a beautiful HIP place downtown. I meet four of her other closer friends from all parts of her life. One remembers me, but I don't remember her. I wouldn't expect to. If someone else was around when I was with Nan, I never noticed. Nan was the sun and the moon back then.

She drives up in her new vehicle. Music blaring. I said "this isn't Nutter Butter." She can't believe I remember that.

She curls her hair in our 500 sq foot one bedroom apartment on the floor because the plugs don't work in the bathroom of the home..the one we are renting until we can find a new home. It's a mess. I have cleaned for hours to try to make it seem not-so-scary. There's not too much I could do..

She is as carefree as I remember her. She's dressed in five and we are ready for our shared-night on the town. I still can't believe she came to pick up ME.

We catch up. We talk. It's like no time has passed and yet so much has happened since high school. We each have three kids. Been married 12 years. We have a lot of honest talks. It's so refreshing to hear someone say a lot of the things I've been feeling lately. Someone makes sense. I make sense. It's clearer.

We arrive. Valet takes the car. I meet her friends. We look like dolls. We chat. And, then she mentions her fairy godmother- -my grandmother--how we went places and did things she would never had had the chance to do.

It's meaningful to me because very few people in my life right now KNEW my grandmother- -the imperfect woman that helped make me who I am today..and led me to be better..to know my faith, to be honest and to stand firm in my heart. Oh, the days she'd wrap me up in her arms all day...My favorite place in front of the TV with cuddles.

A fairy godmother... I told Nan, "She passed in 1999.." She said, "I wish I could have been around there at that time.."

I smile.  Nan pushes me to try another fish and it's like I am 7 and I stall, but it's worth it..She's always a step ahead. Like old times.

We take pictures. We smile. We have this long wonderful talk on the way home.  We may see each other at church on Sunday. Turns out her church is a block away from my ghetto apartment.

I walk into the apartment a changed woman. I'm not mom.. I am not a woman dragged down by real estate agentS (yes, many agents), bank lenders, bank people, an apartment, TWO houses, living in a BOX..but I am a strong, beautiful woman again. With all of this weight off of my shoulders.. For an evening..

SHE was my fairy godmother teaching me to dance, to laugh, to smile, to let it all go.. My flip flops were my glass slippers. 

The memories shared and the moment of escape reboot my journey. It was a refocus on what I am. What I can be. I am not the sum mount of all of these problems.

I am more than all of these things that HANG in the air.

A little bit of magic goes a long way...

F bombs and mixed blessings

This was written as we were staying in a 1 bedroom 400 sq foot apartment, trying to sell our Houston home and just after visiting the 2100 sq Houston home to pack up.

Today I was awoken at five am by a neighbor of sorts yelling and cursing about money. He used the F-bomb more times than I could count.

He threatened violence and there was power and force behind each time he used the word. I peaked outside and saw nothing. He must have been above us or below us or walking outside of the three-story apartment complex.

Now, I've lived in bad neighborhoods before in NW Houston. I've felt the chill of someone watching. I remember the day my grandmother's Cadillac got stolen right outside of her driveway. I was about 11 and I just FELT like someone was watching us that night.

And, I remember when the alarm went off in the house and she grabbed the gun...But, I didn't feel this kind-of-scared this morning. But, I worried enough to check on the kids and lay away from the windows.

I layed on the floor. It just felt like he would begin shooting or something. It bothered me enough to start looking for rent houses too away from the 500 sq foot box we are living in until Oct 18th.

Mikey starts school Monday. We continue our house search Monday too. The offer we made for the house we found was liked SOOO much that they seller decided to take the house OFF of the market.

I look at it like a closed door and a blessing. I really do.

I am not quite sure yet how to look at the yelling and cursing alarm that awoke me this morning just yet though.. All, I can say is that coming home to pack up more belongings put a smile on my face that hadn't been there for MONTHS!  Husband packed. I took the kids to church. "Don't cry." I said to myself as I withheld my emotion to run up to the pastor and high five him.

I later got a chance to high five him when we all shook hands and he remembered me enough to ask, "You! You're here?" I said, yep, "It was worth the 3 hour drive."

I felt at home. It was right. Everything was right with the world.

I then took myself out to the Starbucks I love near my home. Hot chocolate and then home again to live for a day in my MANSION! Every child has his own room. It's awesome.

I didn't realize what a SHOCK it's been to live in such a small place. Emotional shock.  Emergency feeling kind-of shock.

TO be home. HOME.  Home, where it's quiet. Where I can breathe. HOME, for one more night.

HOME.
Amazing what you can feel when you get away for a while.

Humility and the first days of school

Joining a new place has been a lot like starting at a new school.

It's very Felicity pilot episode. Right down to the part when Felicity runs into her new friend as class and it's emotional. This is me. I sat down yesterday at the YMCA. Dropped off my kids. Filled out a form. All I could do not to cry. I told myself, "Stay cool. Don't cry." Stay cool.

Felicity

I feel like we are hobos of sorts. Riley's wearing shoes two sizes too big because his current shoes are not working. Noah's wearing shoes that sortof fit and Mikey's due for a new pair. And, they all share clothes. My "best" is a pair of jeans. Half of my clothes are back at the house.

And, I want a note on my car that says, "Be patient with me..I'm learning the roads.. I promise I'm not an idiot.."

So, we look like a ragamuffin family at times. We live in a box. We have like two cents to our name. No one knows us. We have credit with no one. 

I applied to register my son at school today and they gave me red tape. They said," You have to file with HR at Central office, then get the form and then we wait.."

It was nice to call husband and suddenly the Superintendent of the school district sends us an email with letterhead and his signature. Then, I call Mikey's new school again and talked to the same lady who led me to all the red tape and suddenly I get a very sweet "Hello" with a giggle.

We show up on time with all the documents. It's almost too easy. It was a joyful moment to both get there driving up these cliffs and feeling lost in a new place and to show up with forms in a place we don't even live in ...yet. I sign up next to a couple on WIC with "no income."

Usually, I would judge them with a thought like, "It's not fair!" but, this time I don't feel that way. I get it. No one is better than anyone else..And, all those times, I was wrong. This sense of humility has been really good for me.

Went to look at a home today.. it was disappointing. The house was surrounded by unkept HOA nightmare houses and goodness, not a place I'd want the kids to grow up. Disappointing because it's the ONLY house we can afford to live in 5 minutes from Mikey's new school.

Every day is a learning curve. Today I found the grocery store again. I found my way home. I found Hwy 620. No one cursed me off the road.

Today I got a smile at the YMCA. The kids' teachers remembered their names. I learned a few of the ropes.

Found a home in Leander. Talked on the phone to the real estate agent. Got the financial questions answered from our lender.

Small strides for a hobo.

It's NOT Rocket Science! Or, is it?

One of my journalism soul mates, college friends once asked me, as I complained about my missing writing, to be a stay at home mom, "Why can't you both be Sting?"

I wondered why hubby could run after his dreams, yet I was the one at home. It didn't seem fair, though, I fought to be home- -I know home was better for the kids. Hubby and I can't BOTH work 70-hour weeks. Someone has to be home to catch the extra needs.

I've written before that I feel like a mommy hybrid. My heart is at home, but many days, my mind is elsewhere. It's like I am two people. Or, perhaps I was two people- -or another person before kids. I get stuck between my former self and my current place.

Today, I took the kids to the splashpad. I am learning if I keep them busy I don't lose my voice from yelling. Too transparent? Some days, it's that tough.

I talked with a mom that was a rocket scientist. Really, she worked at NASA full time and decided about a year ago to stay home. She admitted to me that it hasn't been easy. She, actually, doesn't feel fufilled.

I said, "Yes! That's normal. It took me about a year to figure out how to stay home and be somewhat, yes only somewhat sane."

I told her even now with just one point five students (one student that works and one that's blowing the class off) I feel life is too simple. I don't feel fulfilled in this role. My heart is at home, but many days I feel like something is missing and I wonder why my husband gets to be the rockstar. I work part time as an online teacher, so that's about 5-15 hours a week. And, lately it's about 3 hours a week. It's too simple.

She laughed.

Trudie, Sting's wife, when asked about his travels on the road for the last 30 years, how does she cope, etc, she said, "Well, I know how much his music means to his fans. And, it makes him happy."

Sigh.

Rocket scientist said she copes with taking a class at a time while her one child is at play school.

I asked, "But, then, there is this tendency to make a degree out of it. Like, you can't stop. I did that with Education and ended up with a Masters degree. I take a Ballet tone class and think I COULD teach this. I SHOULD teach this.."

It's like there's a hole where the competitive edge used to be. There's no one competing. So, I compete with myself. I don't know where to draw the line.

She said, yes and  "THAT'S why I am in a program that only allows me to take ONE class at a time.."

She felt overjoyed to hear that I understood how she felt. She felt nothing less than validated. And, we both agreed that in just a few years, we will go back and miss this time. We will think we were fools not to absorb every minute of this time. The challenge is to enjoy now - - for all that it is..the good, with the bad.

It's interesting. Like in the movie Mona Lisa Smile, the women find fufillment at home, while their minds are like the side story of a sitcom. I am living in the opposite dimension.

It seems for moms like me the best of both worlds is to work part time. And, to be sure that part time work is fufilling.  I learned a hard lesson when I gave up 100 hours of my time to teach for University of Phoenix and right away I knew it wasn't worth my time. You see, the time I get to myself is very precious now. It's more expensive, that is very very rare...so.. the job needs to be WORTH my time.

It IS a little bit like rocket science being a SAHM. It's a delicate balance between two worlds and the inner view of changing transition. It's an equation. One thing plus another can make you CRAZY or a little less of that can lead to peace. A pedicure can change MY life. Five minute coffee breaks can lead to a deep breath and a smile.

Sitting along side the splashpad, I gained another understanding of "rock star."

I am a one-woman show with an audience of three. It's not too bad to be in constant demand...as long as I appreciate how much my audience needs my music.