At some point, I stopped explaining I was Canadian. At some point, I stopped converting everything from Canadian dollars. At some point, I started to get confused about where home was. These are all things I only experienced in retrospect. One day you realise it has been awhile since you had those thoughts that were so common when we first moved to the UK.
Keira is 4.5 years old (the half being very important when you are a preschooler). I feel like finally a fog is being lifted or rather an opening being created that hasn’t existed for a long time. The possibility of seeing things from other perspectives than just ‘parent.’ I was reading my book and it suddenly occurred to me that I needed to get my thoughts out of my head and that once upon a time I had found this blog my tie to ‘home’ and connection to those I love and a cathartic journal.
Will I be a consistent and regular contributor to this very deeply personal blog about our life? I am choosing not to put that kind of pressure on it and put the intention out there that I carve out time to reach out rather than staying locked up in my head.
One of the reasons I stopped this blog was that as Keira got older it felt like I was taking away choices she might want to make for herself in life about what to communicate and show the world. As she got older, she became more and more of an independent person – free from being Phil and I’s baby. And anyone who knows her, knows she has personality, intelligence and even at her age can be given responsibility. This personality is wholly hers and she should have control over what aspects of that she shares.
So in my life (and Phil’s – he gets no choice in the matter!). There is so much change happening in our life again. Keira starts ‘big school’ in September and what our life as parents and people develops into another unknown territory of reflection, excitement and adapting to a world we have no reference for – parents of a school-aged child. (Wait – is this sharing about her? This might be very tricky)
Although Keira has been a major part of life, Phil and I’s careers have been – quite honestly – doing quite well. I changed jobs a year ago, Phil 1.5 years ago. This is where I feel the need to write to sort out my thoughts and feelings. The ideal is to be fully flexible (both Phil and I) to be able to pick up from school and see Keira’s smiling face at the school gates before 6pm when the face that greets us is often exhausted. To get summers to experience life as a full time family ideally in BC.
The reality at this moment is our jobs take up head space that doesn’t stop at 5:30pm. I often wake in the night worrying about how I will hit my deadline. Wondering, ‘Is this normal?’ Once Phil is awake from my tossing and turning, he begins to do the same. Is work the most important thing in our life? No. Tell that to our brains at 2am though? Is it just who we are – worriers?
I thought I loved what I did for work, but do I love the idea of it (workplace interior designer)? Is it a fear based decision now or ego? Do I take big risk and try something different? Or should I be grateful to have a job that is at times very rewarding and in the realm of my passion? Is this a luxurious problem to have?
London's Calling this Canuck 