To Bliss or Not to Bliss

So we all have those days when we dream about quitting our jobs, the days when we're stressed out by looming deadlines or grumpy clients/customers/patients/students/co-workers. I have my share.

But once I start to picture the job-free scenario, I'm always confronted with the question of "What next?" Would I become a full-time mom, organizing my day around play dates and Gymboree classes and grocery shopping? Would I make a serious attempt to write, freelance or fiction or otherwise? Would I start my own business, maybe as a personal shopper (the ultimate dream: getting paid to shop!)?

How would I really want to spend my days?

Or maybe I should just be happy with what I have, and quit imagining I can be like Oprah (or Joseph Campbell), "following my bliss."

Big Ups and Big Downs

Joy and sorrow over the past weeks. Julia officially turned 1 this past Tuesday, and on Saturday we had her big birthday bash at the house, filled with cousins and aunts and uncles and friends. The weather was stunning and there was lots of running around outside in the yard.

My mom was supposed to be here for the weekend's festivities, but she had to cancel, and for the worst possible reason; last Thursday, my cousin Mark, who had been receiving treatment for cancer, died. He was only 43. Because he was 9 years older than me, and his brother, Darren, was closer to my age, we didn't always hang out. But he was easygoing and funny and always treated me well, and when I was a preteen and he was college age, I thought he was so cool. I think the part that breaks my heart the most is that he leaves behind a 5-year-old and 2-year-old from his second marriage. I can't imagine growing up and not having any real memories of my father.

I survived my birthday trip to New York, my first time apart from Julia ever. It was fun to wander and shop a little bit in Manhattan, but I missed my favorite Moons and I was glad to be home when it was over.

Halfway to 40

So I'm turning the big 3-5 on Wednesday. Mom for one year. Halfway between 30 and 40. And I'll be spending it on a business trip, away from Ken and Julia. On the bright side, I'll be waking up in Manhattan at The Roosevelt Hotel. (This trip has become something of an odyssey, having mutated from "leave Tuesday morning, get back Wednesday evening" to "leave late Monday night, get back late Wednesday night.")

It's artificial to say that certain numbers make any birthday more significant than any other, but this one does feel like a turning point. Maybe it's a year of mommyhood under my belt. Or the way it has altered the way I feel about work and its priority. Or the change my company itself is undergoing as we move offices and try to transform the way we interact with clients and do business. Or how Catherine's big move to Vermont has made Ken and I think about where we want to be in a few years when Julia starts school — is it here, in the city, or someplace completely different? Would that be Ken's time to start his own practice? Would I (could I) stop working altogether?

Big questions, big thoughts for a big number. 35 and counting.