On my urban sprawl

I take a break, lift up my head and take off the blinders. I climb to high ground and survey my life. From my perch I look down on the valleys and boroughs, the various domains of my existence. There are so many. I'm spread thin. The domains are intricately interconnected like a freeway system through the urban sprawl. They're maintained in a tenuous balance, for now.

I have a job; it's part time, but it's a job. I love my career. It's tremendously fulfilling. It is truly an honor and privilege to do what I do. I have been thinking about this a lot lately. It's a subject for a post of its own.

At this stage of my career, I don't make much money. Blake's willing to be the full-time parent, but we can't make it financially on my earnings alone, certainly not part-time work and not with student loan payments looming.

I have a child. I love her. I love watching her learn and explore and grow. I love being her mother.

I don't love being a full-time, stay-at-home parent, in fact, I don't even like it. It's lonely, it's thankless, it's boring. Cook, clean, laundry, nap, diaper, repeat. Take out the trash, scrub the tub, read "Blue hat, green hat" over and over because Bonnie loves it.

I don't want to be the full-time, stay-at-home parent, but I'll do it. If I have to, I'll do it. For Bonnie, I'll do it.

I wonder then what all that work and education were for. We're going to by paying for it for the next decade. Why did I do it if I'm not using it? Someone else could have had my spot. Did I selfishly take this with nothing to give back?

I love California. It's expensive to live here.

I don't love Utah. Our families are there.

I'm a Mormon. I attend church because there are things I believe firmly and find deeply meaningful. Sometimes church drives me crazy; there are things about it I can't stand and days I wonder why I still go.

Blake's still looking for full-time work. We're trying to stay positive, but I think we've passed the fun part of unemployment. The Inland Empire hasn't been kind to us in this respect. A job for him will likely necessitate a move, which will mean saying goodbye to my job.

Knowing I may not stay long, it feels weird to be immersing myself in so many aspects of this agency I'm working for. But I may stay long, I don't know. We don't know. Now's not the time to quit; it's the only job we have.

We don't know. We don't know. Something, sometime is going to give. The tense balance we're maintaining now is temporary. It has to be. I don't know what's going to give. I don't know when it will happen. I came here to escape the tension, to use this perspective to find something that can change, now. I still don't know. Right now, there are people that need me. The only thing to do is climb back down, put my head down, and just keep going.