Was talking with a friend this past week and we were discussing how our lives have changed since we’ve moved from the workforce to being a stay-at-home parent. I found it comforting to find we were on the same page about a lot of things.

I have dealt with a roller coaster of emotions over the past six and a half years in my effort to deal with the shift from working at a “real job” to working from home. At times I feel so elated and amazing, usually when it comes to the affection I get from my children. At other times, I feel like I must be the biggest mom failure on the planet, domestically speaking and otherwise.

One major thing I’ve noticed is my attention requirements have shifted. I don’t really know if this is age related or a situational thing, but it’s definitely something that has become too loud for me to ignore or push aside. My husband is going to really hate this post, because he is generally a fiercely private person … and of course, well, that description doesn’t really apply to me.

For me to work through issues, I need to talk about them, joke about them, discuss them, analyze them, joke about them some more, pray about them, talk about them more and then maaaaaybe I can sort of formulate a plan as to how to improve the situation or embrace that they might just be a part of who I am — and feel okay with that, and at that point the cycle starts again. It’s kind of a crapshoot as to how it will end up, really, because it seems I just keep changing my mind anyway.

So, going back to the attention thing, working from home and the lack of “attention” that comes with that — I really thought that I would be okay not swimming in the ocean. I really did. But I gotta say, I miss the sand between my toes. I miss the smell of the air and the sound of the greedy gulls as they try to pull the Cheetos out of my hand when I’m not paying attention. I need to swim, I think. Maybe just for a bit now and then.

I think need to find some of those talking shirts that, after I fold them, they exclaim “Hey! Good job! Great creases! Nice Work!”

Throughout the course of my life, I can look back and see that I’ve been trying to fill that void—that need for attention with many different things. Acting out, dramatizing, over-achieving. As I got older and realized I had a certain affect on men, I shifted some of my efforts into that direction and was usually richly rewarded with attention that fueled my self-esteem. I always had ways to bring in self-esteem that were NOT just me feeling good about something. The “Me Feeling Good About Something” is all well and good, but it doesn’t really do it for me.

From my collegiate volleyball days ...

As an athlete, most of my playing years I was “that player” who asked to come early, wanted to stay late, would turn off the lights and lock up the gym when I left because others left hours ago. Played any chance I got with whomever would play with me. I just wanted to be better and I knew that hard work and consistent dedication was the way to get there. But, I gotta say, I never did learn moderation. I pushed myself so hard that I was plagued with injuries which ultimately ended up costing me my hip, and who knows what else. (Worth it though? Oh my gosh, TOTALLY worth it. No regrets.)

When I finished playing sports, I shifted my work-a-holism from spending extra time in the gym to spending extra time in the office. When I finished working in an office, I shifted my work-a-holism to working too many hours to develop my online presence and integrate myself into networks of people who have an entrepreneurial spirit WHILE working at home and just trying to be the best wife and mommy I could possibly be.

I used to wonder why I couldn’t transfer that work-a-holism to my domestic duties and I suppose I could say it’s far more fun to joke about doing (or not doing) the laundry than actually doing the laundry. Or, I could even make a case for the idea that I’m just being a better mommy because the loveseat provides a great Hide-n-Seek hiding place when it’s covered with clothes.

But I do think the truth is, well … there are no accolades from housework. No real “pats on the back.” It’s just me and the dishes or the laundry, or that pile of clothes next to my bed that I keep promising my husband I’ll go through TODAY. I’m no social butterfly these days, no one comes over anyway, and the friends who do are usually helping me clean, so it’s just not the same.

As I plunge into my self-analyzation cycle (again), I keep coming back to one thing: Self Esteem. It seems so many of the issues I have point to battling low self esteem. In the realm of all things logical, this just kind of blows my mind. WHY?!! I have an awesome family, many real friends, a successful business, a long list of academic, athletic and professional achievements … and naturally curly hair. How can that not be enough to be happy with myself?!! Why do I seem to see my flaws bigger than they are? Is it sort of a passive aggressive sort of narcissism? I honestly don’t know.  I just know that it kind of sucks sometimes when I look in the mirror and see what’s staring back at me.

I wish I could say I didn’t care. I wish I could say that I was totally happy and satisfied with myself, and you know, logically, I know I should be, but the truth is, I’m just not. And now that I am almost 40 years old, I am beginning to wonder if I ever will be? I wonder if anyone really is, I mean REALLY IS, deep down in the parts that no one else sees.

Working from home provides so much “in my head” time—although I’m crazy busy with the kids (especially my young Evel Knievel), I am constantly mentally assessing and reassessing my strengths and weaknesses, threats and opportunities. And I just feel like I keep coming up short on the “strengths” aspect.

My ultimate goal, maybe.

You know, I wonder about self esteem. As a Christian, everything I know about God and being a Christian points to the idea that if my feet are on the ground spiritually, if I am living my life how I should and put God in the center of everything that I would never lack in self-esteem. Yet, as an almost lifelong Christian, from the time I can remember, I’ve been worrying about what other people think and having their opinions directly influence choices I make in my life (although sometimes “worry” is probably too strong of a word). There were times, especially as a teenager who knew everything, I really didn’t care what anyone thought, especially my father (sorry Dad), and felt like I not only was on top of the world, but also owned it, but those times were few and far between.

And I am pretty sure it’s not related to my Christianity—some might feel it’s “guilt” thing from what “I’m supposed” to be doing in living my life, but it’s really not that at all. It’s something I feel has been with me from the time I was very young. Before I understood about God and faith and anything outside of the love of my parents and siblings and going in the potty like a big girl.

One thing I do know… I know this is my flesh. This is my battle. This is my THE BATTLE. It trickles down to every single part of my life. And I sometimes feel like this means there is something really wrong with me. I just wonder how many other people, when it comes right down to the nuts and bolts of things, feel exactly the same way?

Anyway, this is what I’m thinking about today. So maybe my attention requirements haven’t shifted as much as my attention-getting outlets?  I need to find some of those talking shirts that, after I fold them, they exclaim “Hey! Good job! Great creases! Nice Work!” or a vacuum cleaner that, when I finish vacuuming says, “You vacuumed 12 ounces of filth from your floors today! WAY TO GO!! You ROCK!”

No more answers for me than when I first started typing this post four days ago, but I feel a little better. And I didn’t even have any chocolate, sugar or Red Bull. Awesome!

Oh, and that reminds me. I have gallstones. long story short, the doctors recommend gall bladder removal surgery. I told them where to go and instead am entering into a major lifestyle change regarding food. Of course “told them where to go” means that  really didn’t, but it does mean I am going to try some other stuff before I let them take my parts. Kidney cleanse, liver cleanse, close-to-vegan eating. Doesn’t that sound like FUN?!!!  I think so too.

More adventures tomorrow…

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