Friday, March 01, 2013

92 Jours

I'll admit it I am in a foul mood.  Foul.  I am still shaken from Stella getting stuck in the bus doors, annoyed that it is a constant shade of gray outside, and that there are six men smoking in my garage, drilling a hole in the wall and digging up my driveway and trampling my tulips that are just starting to poke out.  When they take a break the neighbors I share a wall with fill in the silence with their cement hydraulic drill that seems to be non-stop as they replace their bathroom.
My driveway.  Not included, the smell of natural gas and cigarettes.

I am at that point in our post where we are going home in under 100 days and it just can't seem to get here fast enough.

Don't get me wrong, Belgium has been a fantastic place we have loved it.  We have made great friends, our kids have found good schools (well one kid), and we have been happy.  But today, I am done.

My neighbors to that I share a wall with are replacing their bathroom.  It has been non-stop cement drilling for seven days and today the gas company came (again)  and they have once again dug up my driveway, sidewalk, and now they are drilling a hole in the wall.  They also have been leaking natural gas into the air and smoking at the same time, which sounds like a terrible idea.  But really, what do I know?  An American girl who stays at home.

Which brings me to my next point, do I have a sign that says I am looking for a new career?

I have had no less than six people in the past two weeks ask me when I was going to go back to work since Tiger is almost four.

I admit I look forward to the time when Mr. Tiger is ready to enter the halls of kindergarten.  At that point I might be ready for a change in my daily schedule.  I don't know why everyone seems to think I need an office job to be respectable.  I have lots of ideas and maybe I will end up in a snazzy pantsuit but I have a few things I would like to try before I hit up the Dress Barn.

Like, get bored.  What would that be like?  Or, write that young adult romance novel I have had stirring around in my head ("Her palms got sweaty as he approached her.  Was he going to kiss her?  What she didn't know is that he was a time traveler, and her great great great grandson with a very important message.").  I would like to do so so so many things and I am happy to have a chance to do those things in their own time, but go back to an office job that I am not passionate about?  Never, well never say never, but no thank you for now.

Why can't feminism empower me to stay at home if I want to, create a fashion line when I move to Asia, and write a book?  Why does it have to be this boring hum-drum career office life that is the only way for ladies to gain equal footing? (Which is great for some ladies, but not this one).  Can't I make my own path?

Belgium, Europe, you are great but man oh man I miss my country today.

4 comments:

Sara said...

Awful about Stella and the bus! Ugh about all the downers at your house lately too! When it's the right time for you to do something other than be a Mom, you will and for now you tell those people who ask that you are lucky to have a husband who supports you and your family and allows you to stay at home and be creative. That's what I say!

Sunny said...

It's not that I am against working, it's just that everyone thinks I need to get back into an office. I want to work again someday but I just don't want to do the conventional path of office work and pant suits. It's the expectation that I would and should do something that I don't want and no one even considers other possibilities, or more creative pursuits.

I love how you have reinvenited yourself with your baked goods business Sara!

Jonathan P. Howard said...

I love being at home and involved with the boys' school but I have seen other moms (and myself at times) feel pressure to go work once the kids are in school, like our worth as women in society is tied to whether or not we have an office job. I see this especially in countries where Americans can afford house help. And yet at times I feel guilty for using my husband's money to do something fun or new (example: I'm taking a painting class this semester). Like, instead, I should be contributing something...other than meals and clean underwear!

cllfth said...

I think there are so many good baths in Turkey, not in Istanbul. You must see Bursa and Denizli.