In which the “maternity leave” decade comes to an end…

Posted by Shelah | April 12, 2010 | 35 Comments

I first noticed them early in my freshman year of college. In our Biology 100 class, we sat in twos and threes. They sat alone, looking attentively in the professor’s direction, taking neat notes to read and review at their kitchen tables. We dozed, fidgeted, and looked at the clock, confident we’d figure out the material by test day. We still looked like children: bony-kneed, clad in baggy pajama pants and the confidence that comes from being told how smart you are for the last four years. They were soft, wrinkled, conscientious, nervous, and maternal; the women who came back to school after taking a mothering sabbatical. I’m about to become one of them. I’m enrolling in an MFA in Creative Writing program, with the first class starting in a couple of weeks.

My life is comfortable right now. After more than a decade of moving every couple of years, we’ve settled in a town and a neighborhood and a house we love, and plan to stay here for a long time. My husband feels challenged (in a good way) at work. After 10 years of parenting, I’ve finally gotten to the point where I’m relatively confident about my mothering (granted, they’re not teenagers yet). I find a measure of personal satisfaction through running and blogging and writing, and have good friends with whom I can talk about almost anything. We’re even managing regular date nights. So why do I want to go and mess all of that up?

Most mornings, I run with friends. We put in six or eight early miles, which gives us plenty of time to talk, and somehow it seems easier to be honest under the cover of darkness. One day last week one of them said, “Shelah, why do you need another master’s degree? Besides, isn’t this writing thing just sort of a hobby for you?”

Going back to school feels selfish. While my three older kids are in school all day, I had to find a preschool that would take my three-year-old for two full days each week. My husband, mother-in-law and babysitters will pick up my slack. We hired someone to clean our house. I looked at my calendar last week and realized that in the next month I’ll miss a Mother-Daughter activity at church and the dress rehearsal for my girls’ dance recital. The whole family will sacrifice so I can try to transform my hobby into a potential career. After a decade of unrelenting selflessness, going back to school feels incredibly self-serving.

I’m also terrified. An edgy haircut and trendy jeans won’t hide the fact that I’m a dozen years older than the average student. I used to have academic confidence, but that’s been eroded in these mothering years, when I discovered that even though I could discourse at length about the relative merits of Henry Adams and Henry James’s expatriate novels, I was powerless in the face of a three-year-old who wouldn’t poop in the potty. A few days ago a professor sent me an email, requesting 10 pages of a manuscript for a young adult novel. Since then, I’ve been struggling with writing a little bit of the story each day, often with my eight-year-old reading over my shoulder. I worry that it’s terrible, a failure. Back when I was in school the first time, if I failed, I failed. I didn’t have a husband and four kids sacrificing on my behalf.

On the other hand, I haven’t felt this energized in a decade either. I’m dreaming plot twists. I’m eager to get started. The stakes are higher than they were the first time I went to school, but I have a feeling that there will be an upside for my family as well. I hope they see that fear shouldn’t keep them from tackling new challenges.

When have you “hitched your wagon to a star?” What have been some of the unexpected benefits and consequences of the risks you’ve taken?

Category: Daily Special

Comments

35 Responses to “In which the “maternity leave” decade comes to an end…”

wendy
April 12th, 2010 @ 7:44 am

I’m so excited for you, Shelah! Wow!! I haven’t done anything so daring since I took an internship out of state. I remember going to visit the small town I was checking out, observing the kids in the YSA ward (all of them younger than me, most of them in a Junior College), and wondering if I’d make any friends. Then the reality of my wonderings hit: would any of them like ME?

That and the sheer fear of being away from my comfort zone at college were enough to have me rethink my decision over and over again for the next six or eight weeks.

The unexpected benefits of my experience were the good friends I made, one of whom I’m still in touch with, and the tremendous amounts of fun I had, both with friends and with the internship. The only consequence was related to car care, as I didn’t know who to trust, didn’t think to ask, and probably had three sets of new spark plugs put in during my three month stay.

Oh, job hunting out of state was also risky (I just packed up and moved to my dream state; I slept in a friend’s kid’s bed for a few weeks until I found a place). I never did find work in my field and came back to Utah feeling a bit of a failure. But again, the friends I made and experiences I had made it one of the favorite times of my life.

Good luck! You’re gonna love it! You know, except for those days where you don’t.
stacy
April 12th, 2010 @ 8:11 am

Good for you! I had lots of mothers going back to school in my classes as an undergrad, too, and I loved studying/working with them and hearing about their lives–how they got to the point of being able to come back to school, etc.

And good for you for the creative writing. An MFA isn’t *necessary* for you to write professionally, but it can be a good place to learn the habits you need as a professional writer. It’s a great place to think about good writing and craft and how to implement it.

I would warn, however, that unless your program is full of teachers who have been published, take everything they say about getting published with a grain of salt. I’ve heard plenty of MFA program horror stories (especially when it comes to genre fiction–it’s a good sign that you have a prof asking for a YA novel!). I’m an editor of science fiction and fantasy for middle grade and young adult readers, so I’ve seen a lot of the prejudice that can arise against genre.

I hope you’ll post more in the future about your experiences in an MFA. By the way, I graduated with my master’s when I was 30–and at least half of the women in my program (children’s literature MA) were my age or older. You’re in good company.
Eliana
April 12th, 2010 @ 8:31 am

I’m so proud to read this! Being brave is so scary and great at the same time. I may do something terrifying today just in your honor. Good luck.
Michelle L.
April 12th, 2010 @ 9:17 am

Hmm, I ran with you several days last week. Now I’m searching my memory to see if I said something like that…

First– if anyone can do this, it’s you Shelah. You have the energy of two people. I have no doubt that you and your family will thrive through this program.

Yet– and this is a big Julie Beck sort of yet– I think that for most mothers of small children, going back to school at this stage would be extremely difficult for their families. Few women have your level of vitality and ingenuity.

As your friend (and this is a very public place for this sort of chat, but I think it’s an important part of this discussion) I think you know I’m a bit jealous of your abilities. After 18 years of mothering I wish I felt as on top of things as you do after 10! In the past year, I’ve had to examine myself and acknowledge that I CAN’T do much more than care for my family and struggle through my church calling. My capacities are different. and that’s OK.

I look forward to witnessing your growth through this program. I’ll be there if you need any emergency child care or a paper faxed to Provo. And I know you’ll be there to give me advice and encouragement. Because that’s what women do– no matter how different our paths and talents– we help each other.
Marilee
April 12th, 2010 @ 9:38 am

“I would warn, however, that unless your program is full of teachers who have been published, take everything they say about getting published with a grain of salt.”

If your goal is just to improve your writing, and to improve it in the MANNER AND STYLE THAT PARTICULAR MFA PROGRAM PROMOTES, then fantastic. But if you want to be published in the mainstream publishing world – generally, agents could care less about whether or not you have a masters degree

In fact, I’d encourage you to read this post, from an agent:

http://www.therejectionist.com/2010/04/cold-and-ugly-light-of-truth-special.html

And this post from the blog of a children’s book editor:

http://editorialanonymous.blogspot.com/2010/04/sexy-sexy-armadillos.html

“We have a very special and sobering message for you today, inspired by the reams and reams of MFA-produced short stories and fictive efforts we have been reading lately, many of which are quietly pointing us toward the inevitable conclusion that whatever the hell they are teaching you up in there, it has nothing to do with Publishing.”

But Shelah, whatever you decide to do, more power to you. I know there are plenty of reasons to pursue an MFA outside of getting published.
natalie
April 12th, 2010 @ 10:53 am

How exciting! I just started school again to get my MBA and it is hard working full time and going to school — I can’t imagine doing it with kids – but it definitely can be done! My mom got two masters that way, and I totally want my Ph.D someday, so I imagine it will happen to me too!
Gwenevere
April 12th, 2010 @ 10:55 am

I often wonder why kind of student I’d be, if I were doing it now rather than my early twenties. 10 years of life perspective has taught me to think and be critical. Rather than just take what is handed to me from a professor or teacher I think I could really enjoy the opportunity to question almost everything!

I have a theory and that is that college and a 4 year degree just out of high school is so that kids can gain the training for a job. Any education after that is real learning and growth.

We used to make fun of the “old ladies” in our undergraduate program. I don’t know why, they always did WAY better than us barely twenty somethings EVER did!
maria
April 12th, 2010 @ 11:16 am

My mom went back to grad school when she had six children under the age of 12. We all sacrificed (dad did most of the cooking and cleaning, kids had to get over our “center of the universe” thinking), but it was 100% worth it for her and for the rest of us. Think of the example you are setting for your daughters and sons. You’re setting an expectation for high achievement for your family going forward. And of the importance for women to have and pursue dreams, not just sacrifice them for others.

Congrats and best wishes on your journey.
Andrea R.
April 12th, 2010 @ 11:17 am

As a professor, I LOVE the “older” (read: over 20) students in my classes. They are more focussed, more dedicated, and more engaged in the class. They bring insights and experience to the class that can’t be had without living life for a few years. Shelah, you’re going to be fantastic — I already know you’re a great writer. Kick some butt and have a blast.
Rose
April 12th, 2010 @ 11:29 am

I am still waiting for my chance to go back to school. Someday….
Melissa M.
April 12th, 2010 @ 11:38 am

Shelah, I’m excited for you and am looking forward to hearing more about your journey as it unfolds. And I’m guessing the younger students in your program are going to feel some pressure to keep up with you. =)
traci
April 12th, 2010 @ 11:45 am

I understand your wonderings – even tho I don’t ahve kids.

I have very much wanted to go back to school – I had a mis spent college career young. I went for a little while online in the last few years and absolutely loved it. But in my situation, and only my situation, I had to come to the realization I could not put family in that situation. We cannot not afford loans and do not qualify for grants. It would put us on edge, where one need would throw us into disaster. So mine situation had to be deemed selfish if i did it and maybe even – disaster in waiting.

But i have not given up learning. I do free classes online and thru the Teaching Company, I buy and use old textbooks at the library. I can have an education, just not a traditional one.

I do agree you do not need a degree to be published – I have found this personally. But if you can have this degree and experience – Go for it! and Good Luck!
Angela
April 12th, 2010 @ 1:06 pm

Shelah, I’m excited for you. It’s going to be simultaneously wonderful and exhilarating and difficult and exhausting. But I’m sure it will be worth it. I did my MFA when I had kids (although mine was part time, one class a semester) and I’m more grateful for that decision than I can say. It was the right one for me. And as a part-time teacher now, I echo Andrea’s opinion of “older” students. I love ‘em. I also understand where Michelle is coming from–not everybody can juggle parenting and a full-time masters degree. These decisions are so individual. But I’m confident you’ll do great. Go Shelah!
Emily M.
April 12th, 2010 @ 1:24 pm

I think this is such a great opportunity. I’m excited for you, too. Like Michelle, I have thought about going back but don’t feel like the timing is right for me yet. But when it is, I will be there, wondering if I can make it with all the twentysomethings. But I don’t wonder about you–you’ll be fabulous.
Lupita
April 12th, 2010 @ 1:25 pm

“So why do I want to go and mess all of that up?”

Maybe because you sound like someone who enjoys challenges? Capitalizes on opportunities? Recognizes her talents and wants to develop them more fully?

You’re an excellent writer and I’m confident additional focused practice will only bring good things.

Best, BEST of luck!!
Rosalyn
April 12th, 2010 @ 1:43 pm

Like Andrea and Angela, I also teach college-level writing classes and can concur that older students are often better students. Since I had my first child before I finished my graduate degree, I also know what it’s like to balance school and family. But while I was occasionally envious of my peers who had seemingly limitless free time to do their school work (unfettered by marriage or children), I did find that the very act of balancing gave me some huge advantages in terms of perspective (I realized that my academic work was not the end-all-be-all of my life) and in terms of focus (I was able to get much more done in a limited time than most of my peers could–I wrote much of my dissertation in 45 minute intervals while my son slept!). Good luck to you!
jks
April 12th, 2010 @ 3:03 pm

I have four kids, youngest is 2. I am starting to wonder what I might do in a few years. I’m intimidated and I am irritated that I feel that way. I feel both like whole new worlds are open, but then when it comes right down to it, my kids are needy and I can’t imagine having the time, energy to dedicate to a job or school. Elementary school starts late, high school ends early, so I really won’t be sitting around all day with the kids gone. Maybe 4 hours.
Big decision.
Shelah
April 12th, 2010 @ 3:16 pm

Wendy- Thanks! I remember feeling the same way one summer when I did an internship in Belgium. I was like, “Eeek! What have I gotten myself into?”

Stacy- Thanks for the insider’s perspective.

Michelle- It wasn’t you, but I wouldn’t have been bugged if it had been. Believe me, the thing that keeps me up nights isn’t whether or not I’ll be the old lady of the group or I can churn out a young adult novel in the next two weeks, but how it’s going to affect my kids. School will never be my first priority anymore, to the detriment of school. I pray it’s not to the detriment of my kids as well.

I also think it’s funny how we see our own weaknesses but others’ strengths. When I compare myself to you, it’s to your skills as a photographer, your beautiful tables, your peaceable children. I admire (and envy!) those attributes of your life.

Ok more later, the kids are calling.
Shelah
April 12th, 2010 @ 3:47 pm

ok, I’m back. I had to run to pick up a not-sick kid from school (10 minutes before school got out) because she didn’t want to play volleyball in PE. You see why I’m worried?

Michelle- I wanted to add that I really appreciated your comments about helping a sister out. I know you’ve got my back, and I hope you know I’ve got yours, and it’s a strong community of friends and family that makes me feel like I can take this crazy step.

Marilee– Thanks for the links. I’ll check them out and consider myself forewarned!

Maria- Thanks for sharing your mom’s experience.

Rosalyn and Andrea- When I was teaching, I really had a soft spot in my hearts for the older, nontraditional students. They really seemed to take less for granted and worked harder. But now that I’m going to be one, I’m still nervous about it. I just like to blend in with the crowd, I guess.

Thanks to all of your for your well-wishes. I just got back from spending some of the day down on campus, and met one other person in the program, and she’s a mom in her thirties too, so phew. I won’t be the only one, even if everyone else is still in diapers.
Coffinberry
April 12th, 2010 @ 5:07 pm

Yay for you! I waited two decades (four children spread out over 10 years) to go to grad-school. I started the year I turned 40, the same year that my youngest turned 7 (she turns 12 tomorrow… the time flies!).

It was hard! but law school was not so hard as parenting, and the example of study and persistence was incredibly valuable to my kids. Like you, we started out with getting someone to help take care of the house. But while I was in school we had several financial reversals, so eventually we all just pitched in as best we could (which made a huge difference for my sons when they went on missions, because they knew how to care for a household… one son said exactly that in a letter today).

Go for it and “Do your best”!
MelissaPete
April 12th, 2010 @ 8:11 pm

That’s so great that you feel ready to do this while your kids are still at home. I don’t know when I’m going to be ready to do my own school work! I’m entrenched in 5th grade assignments right now and trying to remember how to do fractions and algebra. Good luck to you! You will be awesome!
laura
April 12th, 2010 @ 8:40 pm

Just don’t say things like “I don’t know how these young kids feel, but I think this…” because I’ve had “older” students in my classes doing that and all it does is frustrate me. Just because we’re 20 doesn’t mean we’re COMPLETELY clueless. We have some of the same ideas and we have more in common with you than you would think.
Sue
April 12th, 2010 @ 10:26 pm

I went back to graduate school (Masters in Counseling) when I was 37. My youngest was 8 and my oldest was 13. I absolutely loved the experience, but I did find out later that it was more of a hardship on my kids than I realized at the time. Circumstances in my family and with my oldest son became such that I ended up having to quit school, just three classes short of my degree. By the time I could see my way clear to go back, I’d already had one book published and another was going into publication. (I guess you could say I started writing to “make up” for having to quit grad school.) Long story short, I had lost my interest in becoming a counselor and preferred to write self help books. But part of me is still glad I went, though it was definitely a selfish decision on my part, made possible by a very supportive husband and family. Unfortunately, my eldest son was willing to take on the added responsibility, but not ready, as borne out by the consequences that evolved.

But that’s just my story, and yours will probably be entirely different. I will say that I, too, worried that I wouldn’t be as sharp academically as I had been as an undergrad, but it was a matter of weeks until I was at the top of my game again. Not unlike riding a bike!
Jennie
April 13th, 2010 @ 4:54 am

The idea of a “Maternity Leave Decade” made me chuckle. I’m halfway through my second decade of maternity leave. Wow! That’s a long time to be wiping bottoms and finding lids for sippy cups!

I would like to go back to school someday, and I always assumed that would be when my youngest is in school full-time, which will be the year after next. It always seemed completely reasonable. But now that my kids are getting older and are more “in the world”, I don’t think it’s going to work out. There is so much crazy stuff happening in middle and high school that I really feel like I need to be there for them even more than when they were little.

It’s a pretty intense experience, this teenage thing; their world is so much crazier than when I was that age. I want to be there for my kids with as few distractions as possible.

I guess that means that I’m going to be one of those really, really, really old grad students. Hopefully I won’t be using a walker by that time! But I’m OK with that. I don’t want to have regrets when it comes to my kids.
John David Payne
April 13th, 2010 @ 9:14 am

Best of luck to you, in your writing and schooling, and with your family!
Courtney
April 13th, 2010 @ 9:27 am

Good luck Shelah! You will make it work and I’m sure all will be the better for it. I can’t wait to follow your journey so keep writing about it.

I’ve only had a 6 1/2 year maternity leave and I’m having a hard time figuring out how, when, why and even if I want to emerge from it.
maralise
April 13th, 2010 @ 9:57 am

I think one thing I’ve learned being an older student is that the school is there to serve me, not the other way around. So, if that means that I take less classes than expected…oh well. I paid my money and will take the class load that is good for me and my family. If that means I turn down career-forwarding opportunities, despite logical claims that this is what I ‘should’ be doing, then so be it. I’m not saying it’s not painful, but I have found it to be surprisingly liberating.

I’ve learned that it’s not all-or-nothing and THAT lesson has been worth my tuition, many times over.
Brooke
April 13th, 2010 @ 4:15 pm

oh, shelah, i really admire you for this. i am simply one of those women who can’t do it all and struggle for the balance in just the few after-school hours till bedtime.

i loved school when i was in school. maybe someday i’ll go back. i don’t know. i don’t plan on it, but i’m always swayed by the urge to write. that’s what i want to do… and if an education is what i need to do it??? i don’t know, maybe i will.

(if i can handle teenagers i guess.)
Kristine
April 13th, 2010 @ 7:35 pm

ok, I’m going to be the shallow trivial one and take issue with this:

“An edgy haircut and trendy jeans won’t hide the fact that I’m a dozen years older than the average student.”

You can totally pass for 22. Be sure and display your wedding ring prominently, lest you embarrass some darling young thing when he asks you out.

Just sayin.
Emily M.
April 13th, 2010 @ 8:23 pm

Shelah, Kristine is absolutely right.
mormonhermitmom
April 14th, 2010 @ 12:43 am

I may need two decades to go back to school, but in the meantime, you go girl!
m&m
April 14th, 2010 @ 4:14 am

29 should go down as one of the best comments ever.
Alison Moore Smith
April 14th, 2010 @ 1:54 pm

Shelah, I am darn sure you know what’s best for your family and think this sounds like a great adventure. But I’d just like to share something, realizing I’m going against the tide here. Take it or leave it. (I’m trying very hard not to be my usual, too-pointed self.) This is something easier to address in the abstract than with specifics. But here goes.

My six-year-old has been having headaches more frequently and today I took him to the doctor. Fortunately, they don’t think it’s anything terribly serious (looking at a chronic sinus infection first), but as I sat talking with him –and worrying about him — waiting for the doctor, I was overwhelmed with gladness that I have been with him most every day of his life.

My oldest is nearly 23 and my next will soon be 20, so I’ve been home a very long time. I KNOW “That’s a long time to be wiping bottoms and finding lids for sippy cups!” I really know. And I know it can take immense creativity to find things that energize and excite you within certain confines. Honest. Weighing opportunity costs is difficult sometimes with our families.

But while everyone here (including me!) is happy about your new life events, I mourn a bit for your three-year old in day care and with babysitters.

Please don’t hate on me (too much) ladies. I’m not telling Shelah she’s wrong in her decision. Of course, I have no idea. But I wanted to share — just for consideration today — how glad I was this morning that I hadn’t traded any days with my dear little boy.
Shelah
April 14th, 2010 @ 2:00 pm

Alison– I appreciate that you shared that. I was expecting a lot of people to tell me the kinds of experiences that they’ve had staying home that have made them glad to do it, and was a little bit surprised that so many of the comments were congratulatory. I recognize that I’m doing something that at best will change the dynamic around here, and at worst has the potential to seriously mess things up.

I hope your son’s headaches get better!
brenda benedict
April 15th, 2010 @ 1:24 am

When our 7th and youngest child drove down the lane toward her own wonderful life (as had the others before her)–I realized that her childhood went so quickly-but oh how thankful I am that I will always have it…because I was there.

What I have learned is that when children are grown—we are still alive! We still have many years to school, write, create, craft dreams, work, memorize moments, and go forward with anything our hearts desire—except one—we can never have that precious three year old time back.

Many of our secondary dreams will wait for us-my first small published work will be in the bookstores this week–and I have other books ready–I did manage an art gallery–I am checking off my list of things to do now that our children are grown.

If we live right where we are and love right where we live—then we will find we can have it all, if we give our all, without over-lap. At least that has helped me not to compromise my contentment or smile through the years. Just another view, you will know what is best for you.