In which she fears she has made a terrible mistake…

We arrived to our small Maine town late the night of July 16, after embarking on our cross-country road trip with 4 humans, two cats, and a U-Haul of our most important possessions on July 13, stopping for one night each in Topeka (aka, armpit of the country), Indianapolis, and Buffalo. We stayed with my mother-in-law for a week as we got things settled at the house, and finally began our residency here on July 26, after our new Purple mattress finally showed up.

That means we’re roughly two weeks into our new home, our new normal. And I gotta be honest….I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I am not a Pinterest mom. Most days, I feel like I’m losing my mind. This is a huge adjustment for 3/4 of the family – until we got to Maine, the boys had been in preschool or summer camp for at least a few hours a day, but now are home 24/7 until they start kindergarten; I am only very recently unemployed, and while I was an academic for 15 years, I was in the ranks of contingency and taught every summer session (no summers off for me); only my husband has returned to familiar territory, which is telecommuting.

So what do we do with ourselves? I’m still figuring that shit out. Lots of visits to the local library, a membership to the children’s museum in Portland, and as many inexpensive outings as I can swing…but it still doesn’t feel like enough. To be honest, I’m foundering. I feel like I’m letting everyone down, and it sucks. Especially as everyone in my former life prepares for the new semester to start, I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed. This is the first August since 2002 that hasn’t seen me preparing for the coming year, either as a student or teacher, and I do miss it. I hope to feel differently come November and I see them complaining about grades and conferences and all that stuff, but right now, from my perch on the outside looking in, I miss it. And I hate that I do.

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