Reflections
I am somebody's mom. Crazy right?
Me. The girl who likes to go out in her hot outfit, have some cocktails, travel the world and dance until the sun comes up. Pick out the hottest guy in the room and buy him a drink just because. Write poetry and short stories and then rip them all up. Take the business world by storm and one day be mega, filthy rich. Dance on the beach in my bikini singing songs at the top of my lungs. Me. 1969. The fun loving, free spirited, carefree girl is someone's mama.
Sometimes, when I am hugging a four year old at 2am while they throw up, or making hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream, or playing power ran.gers vs. spi.derman....it hits me that I am really the MOM.
I know, I know....who would have thunk it? Most people that know me say they always knew I had it in me. Well I sure as heck didn't. I could barely balance a checkbook let alone start a 529 plan for someone's future. How did I get here?
The journey has been amazing. I have grown up so much in the last four years. Marriage will teach you some things but you can still be selfish. You can still sleep in late, choose to not cook dinner, lay around all day in your jammies, buy a new pair of shoes just for the hell of it....you know...do the things you want to do.
Kids force you to grow the hell up.....and fast. You no longer are responsible for just yourself, you are now forced into being....a MOM.
So as I woke up and grabbed the cupcakes for Taliban 1's party at school, while I adjusted the mask I had just sewn back together, grabbed the pizza money for Taliban 2's party at school, adjusted his cape for the 15th time, held the car keys betwen my teeth, walked them to the car, strapped them into the carseats and still made it to work by 7:30am.....I really had to stop and give myself a pat on the back.
I think I finally found something that I am good at.