MOM LIFE, NEW SEASON

I have been a mom for over 30 years. Wow!

My kids are all grown up. They are kind, wonderful, beautiful people. They really are the coolest, most interesting people I know.

But I don't get to spend as much time with my kids as I once did. We no longer share living space 24/7. More and more, I am just Camille...no kids in tow.

Things I am learning, things I am un-learning in this strange new season of life:

I do not have to eat garbage. Used to, I'd make a meal off half-eaten peanut butter sandwiches, half-eaten containers of yogurt, the most burned grilled cheese (because, to tell the truth, I burned them all!), and the leftovers from last week that, obviously, no one else wanted to eat.

Where did I get the idea that "Mom" = "garbage disposal"? Probably sprouted from some distortion of the importance of not wasting food (because food costs money). Reduce-Reuse-Recycle is a great strategy for reducing household waste, but it does not mean Mom has to eat what would otherwise go into the trash can.

It is okay for me to eat things I enjoy; it's okay for other people at my table to eat these things, too, even if these foods are not their personal favorites. It is reasonable, as a wife and mother, to want to cook food my family enjoys. But over the years, I let "Umm, it's okay, I guess, but it's not my favorite" become a death-sentence for some of my favorite recipes.

How long has it been since I made linguine with clam sauce? Picadillo with cornbread? Fried chicken livers? (Yes, I am a fan of fried chicken livers.)

I am learning that it is okay to prepare foods I personally enjoy, even if others do not, and it is reasonable to expect others at the table to receive these foods graciously.

How clean my house is...is only as big a deal to me as I make it. I really do prefer a clean, tidy space to live in. But sometimes, other things in life are more important to me than housework, and those things get time priority. When the floors get so nasty that I hate to walk on them, then I will knock something off the calendar so I can sweep and mop.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: if the clutter and dirt don't bother me, they are not a problem; if they do, I can do something about it. I don't "keep house" for other people. This is my home, not theirs. Visitors are always welcome, but they are visitors...not home inspectors. Welcome to the mess!

How clean my house is...is actually not that big of a deal to other people. And if it is, they are more than welcome to pick up a dust cloth or broom and get to work. Won't hurt my feelings at all!

I am under no obligation to conform to the fantastic expectations other people have of me. Wife, homeschool mom, homemaker, writer...people conjure up cozy, romantic, completely out-of-touch-with-reality ideas of what my life looks like, then I get this crazy notion that it would be wrong for me to disappoint them.

Yes, I love home-baked bread and vegetables fresh from the garden; but I also love Cheetos and Diet Coke. I love Austen, Tolkien, and Rowling...and The Princess Bride, Napoleon Dynamite, and Nacho Libre. I lament the immodesty of our culture; I wear jeggings and yoga pants. I am transported by hymns and praise songs; I dance to Bruno Mars and Meghan Trainor.

Go figure.

I am learning to be comfortable with the idea that people can like me for who I really am, or they can not like me. At any rate, I am no longer preoccupied with people liking me for someone I am not.

I do not have to conform to my own unrealistic expectations, either. Somewhere over the years, I got the crazy notion that, if I wanted to be a good wife and mother, I should not get angry, feel pain deeply, express strong opinions or preferences, pursue personal goals, care for my own emotional needs, etc. I thought these things were expressions of selfishness. Instead, I should always be strong, be patient, sacrifice, hold it all together, persevere, be grateful, be content...even if I really wasn't.

The very worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves...and then believe.

In this new season, instead of thinking in terms of "should" and "ought" and crazy ideals, I am more prone to think: "Where am/who am I right now? How do I want to grow?"

About clothes...

I do not shop for clothes for myself. Shopping involves two things I dislike: spending money (always a no-no) - and - trying on clothes and looking at myself in a mirror. I HATE clothes shopping. Instead of shopping, I wear clothes that come out of black bags, clothes passed on by an older lady at church or by a friend of a friend of a neighbor.

Let me say right here: I am so grateful for black bags! Without them, I'd have gone naked the past couple of decades, and trust me, NOBODY would have wanted that.

With the recent onset of cooler weather, I realized I needed some warmer clothes. Normally at this point, I would have started hoping for a black bag to show up on my front porch. But instead, I asked the youngest, who possesses ninja shopping skills, to meet me after school to go shopping. For me.

And I bought clothes.

That I picked out.

For myself.

And I like them.

Shopping wasn't painful at all, not even writing the check.

So, yeah, that's something new, too. 😜