|A moment from our honeymoon to Croatia.|
I'm afraid to admit these things because they make me sound shallow and weak. I'm happy to write this blog and show you my clean closet but I hate the idea of letting you peer into my disorganized closet. The part we really live in. I'm especially afraid to admit these things because so many aspects of our lives are fantastic (like our honeymoon in Croatia).
In talking to Alan last night I came to the realization that (1) most people probably feel the same way. They would also like to have more time off with their family/make more money/lose five pounds but still eat that delicious bowl of ice cream. So maybe I'm a bit shallow and weak for dwelling on what I don't have but I'm probably not alone.
I also realized that (2) I'm focusing on the wrong damn things. Yes, 857 square feet is small and if I could knock down a wall to give us more space I'd do it with whatever tool I could get my tiny hands on. But we live in a great area, in a beautifully decorate home with furniture made from real wood, and one day we will buy something bigger when we are ready. And yes, maternity leave is too short. I have six weeks left with my little nugget and I would demand more if I could. But this time has been wonderful and it's not over. And yes, I have six pounds left to lose but it's only six pounds.
So I will try harder to focus on what we do have. What we have to be thankful for because there is so much. I will try not to focus on my wish to be independently wealthy (although that would be so very nice wouldn't it?). I will enjoy these next six weeks at home with my family and then enjoy the challenges of my career when I return to the office. I will work out and eat a smaller bowl of ice cream so I can shed those last few pounds. And I will appreciate my husband for letting me be so deeply honest without judgement or reprisal; for helping me realize that while our lives aren't sexy, what we have is nothing short of incredible.
And lastly, I will be thankful for you. Thank you for reading my story, for being part of my life. Thank you for (hopefully) not judging me and maybe even being able to relate. Thank you for letting me tell you what I've been too afraid to in the past.