Holy Midlife Crisis Batman!

I think I am in the beginning of a mid life crisis.   I say I think because who the hell ever knows that they are actually in the throes of a mid life crisis?  And no, having just read the clinical definition of midlife crisis I can definitively state I am not in one.  But I am in a midlife something.  We can work on the term as we progress.  Here is the thing.   I turn 35 in 14 weeks. And you may think that the number 35 is the cause of my state.  It isn't.  Getting older is the goal.  I feel fortunate and blessed to make it to 35.  I am not worried about my mortality.   Not even a little bit.  Because if it all ended today it would have been an amazing life.  But assuming I am not about to bite it (and here is hoping I am not) I would like to ring in 35 feeling whole and complete.  Instead of feeling like I ran out of interesting a while back and forgot how to find/make more.

Here's the thing:  8 years ago I married the guy.  He is as close to perfect as I am going to get.  My best friend, keeps the house on its wheels, takes out the garage, folds the laundry, helps with the kids, the list goes on and on.  I got the better end of the deal in our marriage.  He is outgoing, friendly, the person everyone wants to be friends with and the one all of our friends want to keep if our marriage goes south.  5.5 (well, closer to 6 at this point) years ago I had an amazing son. He's perfect.  Seriously perfect.  3 years ago we had our perfect daughter.  Again, seriously perfect.  We have a great house in a fantastic neighborhood, take wonderful vacations once a year, and have great jobs.  But creating and maintaing a perfect life takes energy.  Lots of it.  Soon after I had my son I began feeling like I was not able to give 100% to being a mom or 100% to my career.  So I switched career paths, got a new job, and it felt like I could do both.  And I think I did.  But giving 100% as a mom and 100% to my job left me with, well zero.  And I would make that choice again and again. But sometimes, when I look in the mirror in the mornings or when I am at a social function making small talk, I wonder if I have to get lost.  If there is not room for a small piece of all that effort to belong to me.  Nothing to write home about...certainly not something to blog about.  But it would mean something to me.  And so, as I approached 35 I began formulating a plan.  I would start eating correctly and working out (you know, your typical mom of toddlers problem).  I would dedicate a few minutes of every week to a me hobby.  Not a mom hobby. Not a hobby that my husband finds interesting.  But for me.  Something I enjoy.  So here is my plan.  I started the 21 day Fix today.  I am committing 21 days to my physical self. Assuming it works, and it should so long as I do not cheat, I have time to get 4 rounds in before my birthday.  That is for the part of me that looks in the mirror and feels regret in the morning.  No more regret.  No more regret for the way my clothes fit, the way I feel about my body, or the way I do not make time for myself to work out.  Part B of the plan is to work on two hobbies:  baking and stamping.  Perhaps they are not the most interesting hobbies in the world but I love them.  I would like to make our Christmas cards this year and try one new recipe a week (and yes I get the irony of baking up a storm while trying to lose weight).  But then again I started out acknowledging that I am in a crisis, didn't I?