Today, I finally figured out how to fold a $%*#ing fitted sheet! Yes, that is correct. After years of trying, I have mastered folding the fitted sheet. It looks neat, pretty, and lines up in the drawer with the top sheet and pillowcases. Upon looking at my masterpiece I felt an incredible sense of accomplishment, followed by a feeling of contentment, followed by a feeling of pride that I can find joy in something so small and insignificant, followed shortly thereafter by a feeling of panic, that all it takes now for me to be happy is to learn how to fold a #@&%ing fitted sheet? .... followed next by the inevitable question: Is this what my life has come to?
I'm me, the same girl who swore to myself as a teenager that I wouldn't "settle" for being a mere housewife. The same girl who took off at 18 and traveled the world on a cruise ship. The same girl who went white water rafting in Costa Rica, rode a camel to the top of a volcano in Lanzarote, who saw Giselle danced onstage at the Alexandrinsky Theater by the St. Petersburg Ballet.... I road a God Damn gondola in Venice for frick sakes..... and now I am content to fold sheets? (not just any sheet... a perfectly folded fitted sheet!)
I am the same girl who left a crappy relationship at age 22 and struck out on my own. The same girl who decided to go back to school, earn a degree and make something of herself. The same girl who, when I started dating my husband, told him very matter-of-factly that I had a plan for my life, and that plan included a PhD before any children..... and that he was welcome to come along for the ride if he so chose to.... (but I would be in the drivers seat!)
So what has changed? How did I get from camels and gondolas and PhD's to fitted sheets? I thought about this for a bit this morning after little bean went down for her nap. It didn't take me long to come up with the answer.
The thing is, the older you get (not that 31 is terribly old in the grand scheme of life), the more you realize just how short life really is, and it is so important to spend your life doing what makes you happy. Life is too damn short to be unhappy all the time. It is really easy to get caught up in what we think SHOULD make us happy... it's even easier to get caught up in what we know will sound really impressive to others...
Sure, I remember being introduced to people at parties and having interesting stories to share. Stories about traveling, trips I have taken.... stories about the research I was doing at school and what my plans were for my future.... how I planned on making a difference.... Now when I meet people, the conversation inevitably turns to my kid and how I marvel at how right Louis CK was: No one tells you, when you become the parent of a baby girl, just how much time you will spend cleaning poop out of a tiny vagina....
I am that person at parties that no one wants to talk to, because all I talk about is my kid and how much I love being a mom. I don't impress anyone anymore... I BORE people. I have a pretty mundane life by a lot of people's standards. My husband and I are middle class, planning to grow our family. We have a dog and a cat and hope to have 2 or 3 kids. We have a nice (though not massive or impressive to many) home that I love to clean. (Yes... you read that correctly, I love to clean it! I love having a home to clean!!!!). My husband works for an oilfield company and I stay at home with our daughter, teaching at a dance studio part time. Our dream is to save up enough money to take our young family to Disneyland within the next 10 years.
Pretty mundane, pretty boring. But here's the thing.... I have never been happier or more grateful in my entire freaking life. That's the thing that you don't think about when you are young and trying to make something of yourself, happiness. And I'm not talking about "sweet I got a whole bunch of shots bought for me this weekend, now I can put more money away for my trip to Thiland!" happiness.... I'm talking about being content with your life, day after day, year after year. I'm talking about laying your head down on your pillow at night and not being able to imagine your life any better. This is not something that I take lightly. For a long time, I wasn't sure I was ever going to get to this point. To lay down at night, happy and content, not worried that I was somehow missing out on the life I was SUPPOSED to be living. The fact that I can feel this way at only 31 years of age makes me want to cry for how very blessed I am. The only thing that could make this life of mine any better would be another tiny, poopy bum to clean....
A great thing happens when you decide to stop doing what you think is SUPPOSED to make you happy, and you instead just go and do what makes you happy. When you stop worrying about what others will think of you, or what sounds impressive to some 23 year old at a party....
Contentment is a highly underrated feeling. I am grateful that it only took me to my late 20's to find that which makes me feel content and whole... and today, I am finding it in a perfectly folded fitted sheet.... So carpé diem my friends, go and do that which makes you happy and brings you contentment, whatever that my be... Or is it YOLO? Yes, yes I think that's what the kids are calling it these days.... I'm going to go and fold some more laundry now because YOLO....
