The plan was to put the kids to bed, then come write my blog post. Still not sure exactly what to write, but a nagging sense of inexplicably feeling lost kept floating up.
Instead, I found myself the "peanut butter" in a bedtime sandwich. Megan, my 3 year old, decided she needed a snuggle after 25 minutes of singing in her bed instead of sleeping as I wearily sat in the chair, waiting for her to doze off. Just as she climbed into my lap, Alex, my 5 year old, came in and asked me to sleep in his room that night. Now, I know, rule books say the kids should be sleeping on their own, in their own beds. Many times they do. But sometimes they don't. And tonight was clearly one of those nights.
It was decided they would sleep in my bed, which has the most room. Alex insisted I go in the middle so I could be next to both of them. And so there I lay, the peanut butter to Alex and Megan's bread, the cream in the Oreo. Stuck in the middle with them...with blogging plans for the night out the window.
As I lay there, the idea of lost and found emerged. Being with my husband (relegated to the couch on nights like these when the kids take over our room) and the kids helps me find balance and tap into a different part of myself. Earlier in the evening, we went to the park across the street from our house. With fresh, sweet, late spring air, I watched the kids laugh and run and make friends. My husband surprised us by stopping by on his walk home from the train. It was a lovely evening, and made me stop again and think about all my blessings and all that I should be grateful for.
So why feel lost? Maybe that's the wrong word. Professionally, I feel kind of lonely. I feel out of sync. Unsettled. If someone asked me where do I see myself in 5 years, I don't have a clue and worse yet, I don't even know what to want. I love teaching but do I want to still be a classroom teacher in 5 years? Should I pursue National Board certification? Should I apply, if the opportunity arises, to be a literacy coach? Would that even be a good fit for me? Would another grade level be a good thing for me? There is a restlessness I feel that I don't understand.
But being the peanut butter has a way of calming restless feelings, forcing you to be still. In my case, to my right I saw the little, handsome face of my first born, who is becoming more and more a boy each day, less and less that baby. Moments of cuddling with him are especially precious. To my left, my social butterfly princess, still my baby, but also becoming more and more that "big girl" she professes to be. Everything will be okay. All is right in my world. I am the peanut butter.