The sands of time

2020 has not been an easy year for anyone. There has been uncertainty and loss in abundance and trying to juggle work with home-schooling (during lockdown 1) certainly tested the parenting skills of even the most adept of multitaskers!

However, venturing out for local walks and bike rides (during the permitted daily exercise slot) became our way of looking after our emotional and physical wellbeing, and I found myself feeling immensely grateful for those precious family moments and (by association) the many opportunities for self-reflection that they afforded.

Being a Sagittarian, I have just ‘celebrated’ another birthday (groan) and I have to admit that my natural instinct was to dwell (rather unflatteringly) upon the ‘sands of time’. After all, feelings of frustration, a loss in confidence and (to some degree) a sense of inadequacy are incredibly common in women whose career path has (understandably) been re-routed in order to accommodate the raising of children.  However, I have tried instead to acknowledge some of the aspirations that I held when I was young, whilst also being mindful of the ‘bigger picture’. Let’s hope that I can carry this (frankly rather uncharacteristic) brand of positivity into the next decade – when the time comes! 

Another year older

When I was but a tiddler, I dreamt of being a teacher,
(My brothers said my bossy streak would be a useful feature!),
I’d line up all my teddies and issue clear instructions,
Or take a crafty polaroid of their end of term ‘productions’.

When I moved up to ‘juniors’, I thought I’d be a dancer –
Not Ballet (requiring elegance) but ‘Tap’ the obvious answer…
I had an excellent memory for dance routines straightforward,
I just lacked poise or presence, and looked extremely awkward!

As I approached my teenage years, I decided to become a swimmer,
(I’d entered a single gala and been proclaimed an ‘almost’ winner!),
I joined a club and practised hard – the lengths offered time to think,
But a lack of pace (or stamina) caused my dreams to quickly sink!

When I was in my twenties, my love for music flourished,
Spending hours at the piano and keeping my soul well-nourished.
I rattled off countless ‘études’, ‘rhapsodies’ and ‘sonatas’,
And still I lacked the confidence to really raise the rafters.  

When I was in my thirties, I yearned for far-off lands,
The type you see on postcards – turquoise waters, golden sands.
I set about visiting heritage sights, monuments great and small,
Sampling different cultures; in truth, I had ‘a ball’!

And now that I’m in my forties, wondering what’ll come next,
I find myself re-evaluating, and feeling truly blessed,
I may not have ‘set the world on fire’ – but perhaps there is still time…
But I’ve found my soulmate and borne two sons, and I’m proud to call them ‘mine’.

What’s this all about then?

Everyone is entitled to a midlife crisis of sorts – and this is mine!

I’ve checked that I fall into the correct age bracket (45-65 apparently) and I understand that (being a woman) I have between 2 and 5 years to work through this ‘condition’ in any which way that I can. How incredibly liberating!

I also understand that if I were a man, this ‘phase’ could legitimately be spread over 3-10 years (the vindication here of a prolonged absence of judgement should not be underestimated lads) so I feel fully entitled to press on!

And there is some good news here too… (husband, please take note):

  • There won’t be any rash purchases – I’m not all that motivated by status symbols and, more importantly, the (bank’s) computer would almost certainly say ‘No’.
  • There won’t be any costly cosmetic procedures – I’m a realist; ‘silk purse’ and ‘sow’s ear’ spring very much to mind here.
  • I suspect that I won’t really be any good at ‘apathy’ either – the need to verbalise my emotions seems strangely undiminished as yet!
  • In sharing the observations, insights and (let’s face it) ramblings (!) of a Teacher, Examiner and Mum, they may (at best) prove entertaining to some, and (at worst) cathartic for the author.

So, all in all, things could be far worse. As midlife crises go, I’d say that this one could be classed as rather low maintenance!