Why a blog titled 'threshold'?

Let me sum  things up. I am fed up and want to run away from home. I announced this to my family today. The run-away bit. They laughed and want to come along. That was NOT the plan. I am a 40 year old mom with two kids. Both are homeschooled. Not so much out of ideology but necessity. More on that some other day. My father-in-law will soon live with us. My MIL passed away recently and we can't have him live alone. And so, as soon as his affairs are in order, he will move in with us. We can't afford a bigger home so he will live in our family room and our new family room will be the living room. The formal dining room was converted into a school room. Not ideal but hey, it'll be good for the kids to have their 'Dadu' live with them.

I look around me and see one mess next to the other. Much as as in many households (at least I tell myself that so I don't feel too depressed) I seem to be the only one trying to clean and pick up. The worst offender is my 50 something husband. And one thing after another needing repair and replacement.  Windows, garage door openers, insulation around doors, electrical stuff. Our house is a hazard. OK, I exaggerate. Not all of it is. But some parts are. I am not kidding. My dh is the champion procrastinator of the world and let me tell you. It gets infectious. I guess after a while of battling I gave up. We've been married 16 years and somewhere during those 16 years I lost my drive, I lost my get-up-and-go spirit. There are some other parts of myself I burried for the purposes of making our marriage work and that's bugged me for some years now.

And this morning, while battling Mt. Washmore with a partly broken washing machine (which doesn't bother my darling because he doesn't do laundry.... ever...) I had a epiphany. At least I think that's how it is spelled. I realized I was standing at a threshold. I could step through and change my life, and find out who I really am. Who I burried so long ago. And I can start to  build a life of beauty and meaning again. Or I can turn back and let my life slowly slip through my fingers and some day, when I am ancient, snaggle toothed, saggy boobed (at least they are small), wrinkly and grey wonder where my life went.

My children are wonderful and for all his faults (don't we all have our warts) my husband is a good guy I wouldn't trade in for anything. It's just that I want my children to have memories of a good childhood. Of getting to do stuff and go places. Right now it's a lot of  'sorry, Mom is busy'  stuff.  My children should have more memories of dining at the dining table with a vase of flowers than at the coffee table while watching the tv.

It's all up to me. Just how do I start?