Sunday, September 21, 2014
I've mentioned this before, but I knew there was a void in my life before I applied for my master's program. I haven't ever been one of those women who only dreams of babies. I mean, I knew there would be babies, and I knew I would love them, but that wasn't the only thing I pictured. Even now, when people make jokes about having a second, I feel myself flinch--not just because of how inappropriate the jokes are, but because I know with my whole heart that I'm not ready, and I think when I am ready again, it will probably be for the last time and that's a little bittersweet, too. What I'm saying is that I love my job as Joony's mom. I love taking care and helping him to grow and learn new things, I cry a lot because it's passing by too fast, I just adore him to pieces. I also know that there are other things for me to be doing. When I think about the things I want to fill my days with when he's older, I know I don't want to pick up a random job or hobby--I want to do things that make me happy, things that I feel to be important.
When I made the decision to start applying to MFA programs, it felt so right that I couldn't believe I'd let three years pass since graduation (I mean, I could believe it--I found out I was pregnant a month after graduation, so I'd been preoccupied). Actually starting classes felt very far away though, so I enjoyed feeling bookish when I told people I was going to grad school, that I was researching universities, that I was assembling application materials, waiting for word back from my top choice. When I found out I got in, I was shocked and excited and proud, and still had a few months to go, so I got to bask in that and not really think about the reality of being a student again.
David started his MBA program at the beginning of September, a full month before mine starts at the beginning of October, and watching him spend his nights frantically working through assignments has been a wake-up call. Registering for my classes (Flash Nonfiction! Narrative Journalism! Am I dreaming?!) was a wake-up call. And now, being two weeks away, I'm mostly feeling scared. I haven't been reading and writing regularly since my days at BYUI, where I honestly felt like a bit of a big fish (maybe a medium sized fish?) in a very small, very comfortable pond where I knew all the other fish. It feels intimidating to know I'll be sending work in to be read by people I haven't ever met, professors who are published authors (um, one of my classes is taught by Tony D'Souza). I'm starting to doubt myself and feel like maybe I jumped in too fast, maybe I should have waited...for what? Three more years to pass? Obviously now is the right time, when I have a couple more years before a maybe Baby #2. The time is now, I'm ready, I want to be educated, I want to be well-read, I want to be writing, and I don't want to be so scared by it all. When I think about the big picture, though, I think the scared is what is going to make it so cool.
After I graduated high school, I was sitting around my parent's basement being a general loser, working random part-times, when my mom kicked me out (okay, that sounds harsh. She told me I wasn't welcome anymore, and then drove me to Idaho and helped me get settled and stocked my refrigerator and helped me apply for BYUI--the only school I could get into with my 2.0 from high school). I felt so angry and so scared, but looking back, I feel proud that I snagged a full-time job and paid my rent and figured out how to do my own laundry and got motivated to go to college and do more. In college, I applied for writer's retreats and teacher's assistant positions that I never really thought I'd get, but I took the leap and stuck the landing and they were the coolest experiences. The night before I had Joony, I tearfully googled how to give a baby a bath. I'm dead serious, I was so worried I wouldn't figure out, and now I just toss that grimy toddler into a tub without a second thought (the baths are nothing, I wish Google was helpful with the tantrum situation). I guess I'm just giving myself a pep talk here--it's called a comfort zone because it's comfortable, and nothing changes, and sometimes it takes a huge scary leap to get out of it.
my original post about going back to school. They helped when I started feeling iffy, and I've been reading them again as I get ready to start classes in two weeks, and they gave me the confidence to write this post. It's fun to still have this space even though I haven't felt like posting outfits lately--maybe sometime soon?