My husband is a dreamer and I’ve always been a big believer in his dreams. He dreamed of getting into art school (check), graduating early (check), working for a big producer (check), getting into one of the most difficult and prestigious graduate film programs in the world (check), working for a world renowned filmmaker (check), making short films filled with passion and hard work (check), and beginning his career as a writer/director (…).
Notice that last set of parentheses? He’s hit a roadblock. Part of that reason is because my husband doesn’t take risks. He’s a safe guy who tries to “go by the book” in a field where everyone writes their own stories. He’s also been the primary financial provider while I’ve been home caring for our son. Those two things combined have created a scary combination of stuck-itis.
We need to shake things up.
The first thing we’re going to do is take a huge risk. We’re going to move almost 3000 miles from the city that never sleeps to the city of angels. We’re moving to Los Angeles.
In order for my husband to focus on his passion and work towards making his dream a reality, it makes the most sense for our family for me to become the primary financial provider and for my husband to stay home with our son, which will give him some flexibility to write, network, and find the right position, not just the work anywhere to pay bills.
We’re working hard over here to make dreams happen.
I had been slowly and painstakingly preparing myself for finding a job, all the while telling my husband it might take time and possibly not happen at all due to the distance. No sooner did the words come out of my mouth then I was getting emailed for a role, in Los Angeles, in my field, in a role I’d kick butt in.
I’ve been through 2 interview rounds now and the truth is that as difficult as I know it would be to not see my little guy every morning there’s a small part of me that’s curious and even excited at the possibility of this new role.
Yesterday, I put on my interview dress and then read my son a few books before putting him down for his nap. It was surreal. The old me mixed with the new me. Yet it felt, ok. Good, even.
Of course I can write this because my son is currently teething and becoming a whiny one-nager who throws tantrums and cries because I won’t let him play with the vacuum. I can also write this because I know nothing is set in stone and I could get an email tomorrow saying I “wasn’t a good fit” or other terms companies use to tell you “thanks, but no thanks”.
Regardless, things are changing and they’re going so fast it’s hard for me to process or really even believe these may be my last few weeks or months as a SAHM. I know my husband, who is the absolute best and most amazing father, being the person who will be home caring for our little guy is part of what makes this transition a little easier to stomach.
No matter what we need to be prepared because life as we know it is going to change.