Once upon a time I had a plan.  Sort of.

When I was 23 it was to be a High School or Middle School Choir Teacher.  And then I got the job teaching elementary school General Music.  And I loved it.  It was amazingly rewarding to see kids who wouldn’t necessarily be inclined to make music discover that it was for them, too.  That it’s meant to be part of the human experience.

Then I fell in love with my best friend and got married.  This fit right in with my plan and I kept teaching music to the kids that I adored.  I could see myself teaching there until I retired.

Then I got pregnant.  As excited as I was, I was torn about whether to quit teaching.  I toyed with idea of being a working mom.  My husband and I both had mothers who stayed at home and felt that we’d benefited from it, but I still wasn’t sure.  Finally, a good friend of mine, who happened to be pregnant as well, said, “Nicole, you are the sort of person who throws herself completely into what she’s doing.  If you try to teach and raise your child, you will always feel guilty about neglecting the one you’re not with.”  Or something like that.  It’s been seven years and my memory’s not what it was.

So I’ve had seven wonderful years being the stay at home Mom.  My friend was right and I never regretted it.  Over the years, I’ve had offers to come teach music at different places but none ever seemed to fit my schedule.  I had a new plan.  When the boy was in school full time I’d go back.  I figured I’d substitute teach for a while, and then look for a part time position.

Then my friend (the same one) called and invited me to interview for the part time general music position at her school.  I couldn’t ignore this one.  It fits with my kids’ school schedules, I get to teach general music again, and I still get to have time with the boy in the afternoon.  My husband and family were unanimously excited for me.

So I went for it.  And I got the job.  I am both scared and excited.  It’s all I can think about.  I’ve even started having teacher dreams again; (Gratefully, not the kids-hate-me-and-throw-a-riot dream.  I hate that one.) trying to remember what I used to do.  It’s like a dormant part of my brain is waking up.

I told L today and she rushed over and gave me a hug.  “I’m so happy you got a job, Mama!”  I asked her why she was happy and she said, “Now you have something to do while I’m at school!”  Heh.  First graders are funny.

So anyway, here’s the moral of the story.  The most significant things in my life have never followed my plan.  Sometimes you just have to make the proverbial leap of faith and know that everything’s going to be ok.

(Remind me of this a couple months from now, please.)  🙂