Coming Up for Air in Midlife Motherhood

I wasn’t planning on writing a blog post. I mean, I rarely write them.

In fact, I haven’t been sharing much of my writing for months.

I took most of the summer off Instagram. (But I kinda stopped writing there because Reels rule and I ain’t got time to format carousels most days.)

I write my newsletters, but those are generally to share ideas, tips, brief updates, playlists, and projects I’m working on.

A part of me (hello, brain) feels like I have nothing to share.

But my heart (and intuition) knows this really isn’t true.

So, what is it?

I’m finally coming up for air.

Let me explain.

I’ll be 50 (!) on January 8. That’s about four months away.

And I feel like I just turned 40 like three weeks ago. But I also feel it’s been 1,000 years, and I’ve lived 27 lifetimes.

I’ve gone from full-time homeschooling three littles, moving three times (or was it four?), dealing with health issues for every family member, starting my job at Big Life Journal, blogging for The Homeschool Mom, becoming a coach, getting published, to mothering three teens, graduating one of them, managing #thepuberties, and most importantly, riding the perimenopause boat down the raging hormone river until I went over the menopause waterfall last August.

I’m inhaling deeply and coming back to shore.

Mama needs a break.

And some peace, if I’m being honest.

There’s something sacred and scary about pausing, even stopping.

I’ve lived most of my life with go-go-go energy, saying “HELL YES” to lots of things in the name of being a helper, but at the expense of my actual energy levels.

I know better now. It’s only taken me decades.

Sitting on the shore, listening to the river, and closing my eyes is just what I need.

Maybe writing more is what I need to do, too.

Midlife motherhood looks and feels different now.

I’ve got one kid out of the house and two more who might be within the next few years. They feed themselves, do their laundry, and mostly handle their school work (with guidance, of course). I’m still their Uber Driver, but it’s our time to talk, and I force them to listen to my 80s and 90s music.

My younger son folded all the towels today without being asked. His twin sister always asks me how she can help. My oldest is officially starting paramedic school in October.

The kids are alright.

So, maybe it’s time for this midlife mama just to be.

Be her creative self.

Be her writer self.

Be her post-menopause crone self.

Be her loves-to-lift-weights self.

Be her only read books that make her joy-filled self.

Be her peace-filled self.

There’s something stirring in my soul, and it has been for a while.

But it needs space, time, peace, hot tea, pens, dotted journal paper, and stickers.

And the fresh fall air.

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