Following Your Bliss

Following your bliss. What does that mean, really? It is such a woo-woo sounding term. Bliss? Yet, it has been on my mind lately. A parenting book I read recently said that sometime between the ages of 11 and 14 children will find their bliss. Their passion. The interests or activities that bring them joy, challenge and engage them, fill them up. It is the wise and observant parent who notices these often subtle messages and then helps the child define and recognize them.

One of my girls loves to read, draw and write poetry. The other loves shoes, clothes and babies. The 8 year old is too young. He assures me that he is going to juggle knives when he grows up! Over his Momma's dead body. And NO Son, you may not use my kitchen knives to practice.

We talk about their passions. How do we help our children achieve the dream that we all have: to find work that we are passionate about and yet still pays us a living wage? We also talk about them not living with me forever. At 18 years old they either have to go to college or get a job and find an apartment. That's why they call me "Mean Momma"!

20 years ago I did not want to have any children. I liked my job. I didn't want to share my husband. As the oldest of 5 children, I felt as if I had already "been there, done that."

14 years ago, before the birth of my first child, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be a stay at home mom. What would I do all day? And then I held her in my arms and knew that I was not going back. We were very lucky that I had the choice. Many women do not.

For 14 years I have been living my bliss. In some fundamental way, raising these children was what I was meant to do. It fills me up. It brings me boundless joy. Yet, I have been increasing restless this last year. They are older. The labor intensive baby days are over. The teenage years beckon. Those years require a different focus, more of the mind and soul, less of the body.

I believe in modeling appropriate life skills and behavior for my kids. If I don't want them to swear, I must not swear. If I expect kindness, I must be kind. I will always say "please" the first time I ask a child for something. But not the second...or 6th.

If I am to speak to my children about finding and then following their bliss, then it stands to reason that I must model that as well. Searching my heart. Realizing that the time is approaching for me to reenter the workplace. Even though the very thought of doing so scares me to death. This "job" of being a SAHM is comfortable. "Out there" is not comfortable. "Out there" is scary.

I must model setting a goal, making a plan and following through. They must see me struggle and, yes, possibly fail. They must see that even though I am afraid, I will not give up. That I am willing to work hard and long for....for my bliss.

I owe it to them as much as to myself.