The Life of a professional Caribbean Woman

The sad truth of being a Professional Woman. We take longer to get married and longer to start a family, in an attempt to solidify our career path before having to take the time needed to nurture young ones and to keep a family together. But even when we plan it, and do it right .... things go wrong. Maybe, we wait until the perfect  time to get pregnant, only to realize that our body's ideal time was much earlier, and now we must subject ourselves to ovulation drugs, hormone injections and other expensive avenues to become pregnant. Or when this goes smoothly, we realize that we can't keep up the career pace and still do right by our children. The aha moment comes when; your child refuses to come to you from the babysitter, you see that horrible report card, your child has been in one too many fights at school. You are lucky if you have the type of spouse who picks up the slack. The type that is not driven by stereotypes and who helps in every aspect of raising children. H

So as I am writing this to you, I am feeling like a failure at one of those jobs, the more important of the two... being a mother. I am seeing the psychological effects my being in another island for work, and only seeing them on the weekends, is having on my children, and their school work but of course having no income to be there for my children is not the answer either. So where is the balance? This is the question that I and so many other working parents struggle with on a daily basis.

So for the last 3-5 years I have been trying to find my calling. When I was younger, I had a clear path- with financial independence as my motivation, but now that has been achieved and can be sustained... I find myself searching for the meaning, the purpose, the aha, the calling that so many people talk about. The stuff that will make your life so fulfilling. Yet it is so elusive. I have read self help books, websites, done quizzes all in an attempt to find it. What am I good at, what do I enjoy, what did I do in my unstructured childhood time... I still don't get it. So Oprah's new TV show, lifeclass... which I am enjoying.. I am an Oprah fan, had an episode on just this topic yesterday... and I missed it!  Today I get home and I just see the credits of a rerun. Here's hoping that I see it... and more importantly here is hoping that I finally have an aha moment on how to get onto the right path to find my calling.

Its been a long time since my last post... and this one will be short. Don't you ever feel like you are a hamster on a wheel in an environment where the cheese has been moved, and you seem to be only one who notices... but yet your role is to continue on the wheel. Its time to get off the wheel.

I had a fantastic weekend with just us girls, me and my 8month old daughter. How wonderful and precious it has been to spend entire days with just her. Watching her cycle between her times of sleep, eat and play with a few diaper changes in there. She gets so fussy when she is tired and begins to moan and grab at her left ear- usually my cue to put her in the crib and give her her binky. When she sleeps she looks like a big girl, the way looks with her head resting on the pillow, her left arm under her body and her right arm holding onto the same pillow.

This is not what you think it is... it is not the existential question that plagues each individual, and mankind as a whole. This is a more specific question. One I often ask myself when I am in a place that I need to be in order to get to where I want to be. The question is not rhetorical... it is meant to be answered as a reminder to what I am currently doing, and how it fits into where I want to be. I remember asking this question at a bus-stop during a very bad winter while pursuing further studies in a temperate climate. Me, a child of the Caribbean sunshine. I was standing at the bus stop wearing my $10 thrift store long wool coat. I could hear the wind whistle as it blew through my body. It was not that late, but already dark outside and I had an uneasy feeling as I waited alone for the bus. I could not feel my face or my ears anymore and I tried  unsuccessful to warm my hands in my pockets. Looking down I saw on the ground a can of soda, with a bracelet sized pool of liquid f