Yesterday was an interesting day for me because it was the first time in months that I've been free to be nothing more than a Stay-At-Home-Mom. So, I put on a podcast (Magic Lessons) and cleaned the house. We've had a really busy week and, while it seems like we weren't here enough to make a mess, we managed to find the time to make a fairly epic mess. With Sunday being a day of no obligations, I just slipped back into my old role in the house and gave it the "Mom Clean." Once I had all of that taken care of, I baked a cake for Sundae Sunday (a bit of a misnomer, but Dessert Sunday isn't as fun to say) that I had been craving for weeks.
After the apron came off later in the evening, I took stock of what I was feeling. It was definitely peace. There may be a line of women forming to slap me when I say this, but I feel that my place is in our home, taking care of my family. This is not to say that I believe this is where all women should be--I am a feminist; women belong where they want to belong--but in my case, this is true. I feel my best when I can look around my home, and at the lovely people and animals I share it with, and see that everything is taken care of. I missed this so much over these few months of going back to school.
Between this moment of bliss and being two weeks from starting my first serious novel, I'm very happy to have made the decision to cut back on my classes this semester. Rather than take a full course load, I chose to take American History (to 1865), American Literature (to 1877), and Ocean Studies. The first two classes will be a fantastic help in writing my novel, and the last is one of the first classes that caught my attention when planning my schedule. I promised myself I'd take it at the first available opportunity and that is now. My mermaid alter-ego would be highly upset with me if I didn't.
Speaking on the novel, I swore I'd start writing it on September 1st, and that's what I'll do, but I won't pretend I'm not completely terrified. I am very scared about embarking on this adventure, but I trust it's going to be good. The very fact that I'm afraid is exactly why I need to do this. I've always said that fear is like a built-in compass pointing you where you need to be going.* "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough," said some smart person at some point. I've written novels before, but never seriously. NaNoWriMo has always been something I've done for fun, with no intention of ever editing or publishing what I write during that time. It's about the spirit, the community, and just seeing what crazy things can come out of my brain when let off its leash. To know that I'm writing this novel for keeps is more than a little intimidating. I've contemplated trying to keep the mentality that I'm just doing this for me and no one else, but that's cheating. I'm trying to put something out into the world, and I don't want to skip out on that part of the experience just because it's uncomfortable. But September 1st, 2016, I'm on the hook for this one. By September 1st, 2018, I want this novel written, revised, edited, and ready to hand over to the people who will take it on the next step of its journey. That's two years I am committing myself to this novel and to Mrs. Elizabeth Markham, whose story has been lost to history until I write her a new one. That, my dears, is not a small feat.
My coffee mug is empty, which means I should probably get started with my day. All things considered, my fall is beginning to take shape. I'm feeling that deep tranquility that comes from being where you're meant to be, even if it's difficult or less-than-glamorous. I have so much to look forward to during the remainder of 2016 and I'm happy to be back on my own path.
*Unless your fear is pointing you towards bears. Then your fear becomes something we like to call "a healthy will to live." You should probably listen closely to that and back away slowly.
