Growing Up and the Difference Between Happiness and Contentment

Have you ever been asked a question that, at the time, merited a simple yes or no answer, and yet it stuck in your head for a while?

My friend J. was up for a visit a few months ago. We were standing out in my driveway, having a smoke, and I was talking rapidly, attempting to catch him up on the past thirteen years of my life. He'd had more than a few drinks though, and he interrupted my verbal torrent to ask, "Yeah, but are you happy?" Trying not to lose my place in my narrative, I quickly answered "Yep!" and continued with whatever story I was telling him at the time (I forget what exactly it was).

The question stuck in my head though. I've been turning it over and over in my mind since February, and I finally decided it would make a good blog entry.

When I was a kid, I had these wild dreams, technicolor visions of grandeur. I was going to be a famous author and poet. I was going to be a rock star (despite having a mediocre singing voice and negligible skills on the guitar). After spending some time with my cousin Robbie, who was afflicted with severe cerebral palsy that aided in ending his too-short life at the age of 19, I was going to invent a system that would allow him to communicate his thoughts in college-level language through facial expressions. After my mom was diagnosed with degenerative disc disease and had disc surgery that was only partially successful, I was going to invent the perfect painkiller that worked like a charm without the potential for abuse. I was going to leave northern Michigan and everyone would know my name.

Times change and people grow up. I fell into cooking, moved out of my parents' house, and found myself occasionally working two full-time jobs just to pay the bills. I settled into a routine of cooking for hours, coming home, taking a shower, heading down to the bar, drinking myself stupid, coming home, passing out, and getting up in the morning to do it all over again. I still wrote on occasion, but my dreams were fading under the gray glare of everyday life and its necessities, the responsibilities of adult life, the things like grocery shopping, cutting coupons, renewing my car insurance, paying my rent, etc. I made friends. I lost two that were very dear to me, one a victim of drunk driving, the other a casualty of a heart too big for his body and a replacement heart that wore out before he did. I got pierced and tattooed and spent so much time living in the moment that I forgot to give much thought to the future. And then I got pregnant.

Once again, my life and all I knew shifted. Now I was thinking about the future, but only about what it would mean to my unborn child. My focus concentrated and narrowed. I educated myself on pregnancy and newborns. I still worked full-time, went to the doctor, took my prenatal vitamins, and gave all my thought and remaining energy to becoming the best mother I could possibly be.

Matthew was born, small but healthy. I kept my kitchen job, and worked a couple odd jobs to help make extra money for diapers and books and toys. Jeremy kept his kitchen job too, but also started experimenting with different ways to make money online. We discovered the unsuitability of our duplex apartment, and moved to a small house with a great big yard. We started settling in and making it a home for our small family. Jonah came along nine months after the move. I decided two kids was enough and took the necessary measures to ensure that there would be no more children. Jeremy found his online niche in graphic web design and started making money from it a little more regularly. I took a second job at Ill-Lusions, and ended up leaving City Park in favor of the retail job right around Jonah's first birthday.

I regret none of this. This is the life I've created for myself, my boyfriend, my children, my part time job at a store I love. Sure, I'd still love to go to college, and someday I will. I'd love to figure out what my dream career is, make a buttload of money, buy a brand new car, a new house for my parents, all of that. But for now, my dreams are on hold while I take care of my family.

I don't view this as a negative thing. I view it as realistic. To  me, my children come first. I'd rather use my money to buy them clothes, diapers and pull-ups, the occasional toy or book. Matthew will be going to Head Start in September, and Jonah the following year. There's time enough for other things. Life is short, but I'm doing what I feel is most important, in the order I deem proper. The day will soon come when my boys will be at school all day, where I won't be spending 16 hours a day saying "don't climb," "spit that out," "time to change your diaper," etc., when I'll have time on my hands and need ways to fill it.

Am I happy? Yes, relatively. As I told J., I'm 75% happy, and I think that that's good - you always need to have room to improve, to grow, so that you have something to dream about. I think for anyone with ambition, or for a dreamer, 100% happiness is nearly unattainable. You need goals, plans, dreams, something to work for. What is more important, to me, is that I'm content. Sure, I'm not in the "honeymoon" stage anymore. And you know what? It's nice to have my head out of the clouds and my feet grounded in reality. It makes those few moments a day I get to myself to daydream that much more precious.