Enjoying life in transition.

Sometimes it’s a little hard to enjoy life and be happy with huge tasks hanging over your head, when things are very much in a state of not-ideal and working toward making them more ideal.

Not living with my husband is probably the most not-ideal thing I could imagine. Raising twins from birth makes it 3x more not-ideal. And ever since I’ve accepted the fact that he’s not going to get a Visa to come to the U.S. I’ve felt an enormous pressure to do the impossible: pack up my life and our babies and go to Uganda.

This sort of, task of the impossible, never used to daunt me. But after a few set-backs, I have to fight the urge to succumb to failure. Can’t I just sleep through to the deadline and somehow hope when I wake up all things will be done and in order? Or there’s the opposite urge. Can’t I just work so hard, that even if life is beyond miserable for several months, I’ll just continue to work till it’s done. I’ll get two jobs. Work 80 hours/week. Never see my babies awake. I’ll just shut off the water in the house as well as the AC and electricity—never go out, save every dime there is to save for those plane tickets.

Transitions are hard. I haven’t seen many people do them well or without noticable agony. Pre-birth bliss suddenly turns into a pushing and prodding or pulling into the world. There is lots of screaming, usually. You stay with Mom until you are jolted into daycare or pre-school. There is happiness and tears. Then there are the progressive levels of schooling with not much relational continuity throughout. A quick goodbye at graduation and you never see that teacher again. Transitioning from singlehood into marriage with children is likely the most alienating transition of all. Suddenly, you can’t just go have a late night cup of coffee (or other beverage) with your single friends. There are lots of feelings on both sides.

I feel like I’ve been living in transition for the past 2 years. It's like the transition of birthing from one world to the next. I wish I could just rip the band aid off. I could just get up one day and walk out the door, drive to the airport with babies and never look back. That would hurt a lot of people though. I’d best close down my life here well and enjoy it while it’s going on, because I can never regain the time with my growing babies.

So, every once in a while I do what I did last night; the second time in a year. I went out for dinner--two kids in tow. We practiced using crayons and not climbing on tables. The twins ate very nicely, so everyone else said. Only, one blood curdling scream from Gracie. We even got oreos and lollypops from our waitress. And we had fun! And the bill was under $10. Woohoo!