I told Sean yesterday that the house is going to hell in a hand basket, because when I take Gabriel out in this glorious early Spring weather, there is no time to clean. And during his morning naps, I am writing, so there’s no time to clean there, either.
Sean said to me. That’s good. It’s good for you and Gabriel to go out and be with the other moms and babies. And it’s good for you to be writing.
This is one of the reasons that I am with Sean. Because I knew that he would be supportive of my creative ambitions. He actually wants me to ambitious—more than I’ve wanted it myself for the last couple of years. I think he is relieved to see me coming back to myself. Although, he may simply be hoping that I will write a bestseller and we won’t have to worry about money, anymore. Hee hee.
Speaking of money, I just got the check from my teachers’ retirement fund. Yes. I cashed it in early. And I am nowhere near retirement. My reasoning is that so little went into the fund-- only a few years-- that it probably wouldn’t do me a whole lot of good when I actually retire. But it might help me now by allowing me to stay home just a little bit longer, and help me get set up as a freelancer. I don’t know what would be the best way to spend it in order to utilize it to the best of my ability. It really isn’t all that much. Where to start?
Wow. There are so many mechanics to get straight when you are trying to stay at home with the baby and be creative, and keep the house straight, and try to make money. That’s on top of the normal struggles of living. I don’t think I realized how easy I had it when I was single. I only saw the struggles, normally—money, loneliness, internal convolutions, creative block, whatever. But you are able to have the luxury of being selfish to a much greater degree as a single person. No wonder people wait so long to settle down, nowadays.
But on the other hand, I’m feeling more of a motivation to step up to the creative plate now that I am a mother. I spent so many years exploring and learning and dipping my toe into the water of being an artist and writer. I’ve done enough preparing, and now it’s time to make it real. I can’t fart around anymore, because the time I have to myself is so rare and valuable. I have to focus down. I’ve already decided to not begin any new endeavors—no crafting or jewelry making or forays into fashion design. I’m going to stick with my current skills and genres.
In other words, no more being a dilettante for me. It’s time to take my work seriously. I want to have something real to work on. I want to have a career, and a body of work to leave Gabriel. And I want to show him that it is possible to be real in this world, to be successful. To leave a mark.