Hello Bean. It's Me, the Universe

I think the universe is speaking to me.

I know that sounds bat-shit cray cray, but what if it is even more bat-shit cray cray to ignore it?

I think it is abundantly clear that this whole working 9-5 thing and trying to raise my kids has been a difficult transition. I took a full-time job because I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Not working wasn’t working; working part-time wasn’t really working, so naturally a full-time position at a reputable company with good benefits and name recognition should have been the answer.

My life, however, didn’t get any better, it got worse. Yes, I am making money, but ¾ of that goes to pay someone else to raise my kids. Yes, anything extra helps out, but at what cost? In five years it will be profitable for me to be working full-time. QT will be in school and I won’t have to worry about full-time daycare or nursery school tuition, but I am not sure trying to live for what might happen down the road is beneficial to me or to my children.

Oh, and the universe is speaking to me.

How can I explain this without sounding like some Oprahfied, best-life, new-age crazy, who in the words of my good friend Kerry, “is coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs”?

Have you ever met a stranger on a plane and had a life-changing conversation? No? Me either, because things like that don’t happen to me, and because I don’t like to talk to people.

As I was flying home from my cousin’s wedding a couple of weekends ago though, I did.

Now, I am not sure if the guy I was sitting next to was a prophet or a snake-oil salesman. There really is a fine line.

He did say three things to me that totally resonated:

1. Quit your job.

2. What will you regret more in five years, not taking your job or not spending time with your kids?

3. Don’t be afraid.

He also said things like “educated mind” and “giving things up to God” and maybe my educated mind is a little cynical and my spiritual life is probably lacking, but when terms like that get batted around, I start getting uncomfortable and I start to over-think.

And maybe that is my problem. Maybe I over-think everything. Maybe the answer is simple. Quit your job. No regrets. Don’t be afraid.

I am plagued with the then what?  But I also found myself opening up to possibility.

The following Tuesday morning was chaos in my house.  My husband was on his way home from a work event, our sitter had to come in early for her, but late for me, so I was already behind on my day. The Little Lady wasn’t having any of me walking out the door.  She was hanging on my leg. As I dragged her around the living room trying to collect my things and walk out the door, I heard myself saying “mommy has to go, she doesn’t have time to play,” and “I will read you that later, I have to go,” and “Little Lady, you have to let go of my leg,” and all of it just tasted terrible coming out of my mouth.

When I finally pried her off my leg she was begging to be held. I picked her up, her big brown-eyes were full of even bigger tears, and I had to pull her hands from around my neck—and have I told you how she is the best hugger in the house? Her tiny frame just hangs on tight. Then I passed her off to the sitter and walked out to my car.

It wouldn’t start.

The Little Lady was telling me not to go and the car was telling me I couldn’t go.

Did I get it jumped? Yes. Did I go to work? Yes. Did it make me stop and think about the Celestine Prophecy, and Ah-ha moments, and Oprah, and drum circles, and finding a life coach, and taking up meditation, and my encounter on the plane? It did.

Signs, bitches. Signs.

I told my husband that night that I thought the universe was speaking to me. He scoffed, I started sobbing.

The next day, I got a call from my Tuesday/Thursday sitter. She has been with us for over two years. She gets down on the floor with my kids and gives them huge kisses, she does the laundry, she cleans up their puke and their poop. She empties the dishwasher. She comforts them when I walk out the door. She loves my kids. She is sick. She is leaving.

I emailed my husband that I thought that I would make a wonderful Tuesday/Thursday sitter. I have exceptional qualifications--have I told you the story about my kids and the light up horse?

To my surprise he emailed me back saying that I should quit my job if it would make me happy.

It would, but only because I would be with the kids, it wouldn't make the mortgage payment, or the nursery school payment, or my "educated mind" stop worrying.

So universe, I hear you loud and clear. And I am taking a step forward. Am I quitting my job? Not right now. But I am going to start to try to live my life with fewer regrets, with less fear, and with possibly more meditation and yoga. Although, one time in a yoga class my leg fell asleep and then when I tried to stand up I fell straight to the floor, so maybe that was the universe telling me I should explore a few other options as well.  

I will let you know if we chat again.