I haven’t been on here in several weeks, though I constantly have ideas running through my head about what would be a great new post. Problems with the education system, Arthur Miller plays, how to create wall art with ConTact Paper, recipes for vegetable bread…Too bad none of them ever get posted… But last night while I was surfing through my old Emails on my Nook, I came across a link for this blog. Scott Adler, the author, talks about not being able to be who he once was now that he has taken on the role of fatherhood. I totally get him. My blogging has gone by the wayside, art projects have become nothing more than dusty incomplete clutter, and my running shoes are lost beneath a mountain of junk mail, board books, and baby socks.
I always think about completing the “About Me” section of this blog, but in a way, I’m a little afraid to. Besides defining myself as This Author, what else can I say? I’m a mom. Period. Everything else that I am so tempted to write down (writer, runner, reader, dancer, artist, baker) are who I used to be. I don’t do any of those things anymore, whether I like it or not! Now I am who my children have me made me. A mom: bathroom disinfecter, kitchen floor moper, dish washer, launderer, cook, team manager, event planner, creative financial analyst. It goes on… I’ve taken on a 168 hour a week job, and working all three shifts a day can make it difficult to get in any self defining moments.
My husband tells me on a regular basis that I need to get some friends, as if that will miraculously create more time in the day. I know what he’s getting at, but I CHOSE to be a full time, none stop mother & wife. I skip out on long runs & book clubs with the girls because I would rather have vacuumed floors & clean underwear. I do wonder sometimes how other family units manage it though. Does Dad step in on some chores? Does Mom just neglect the “unnecessary”? Is free child care (ie grandparents) near by? I’m not sure how it’s done, but I know I feel guilty if I’m away from home too long on my own. I fear that my husband has turned on the boob-tube, or left them alone while he ran out, or that the place is randomly burning down…
So, to answer Mr. Adler’s question, “Have kids killed your dream?”, my answer is, “Eh, not really.” I don’t always like who I am or what I’m not doing, but I love my job. I know it’s terribly vain for me to think that my home would perish in my absence while I got a quick drink with some friends, but I do think that who I am might. As for the self-description, I think I’m okay with that too. I am no longer a cross country runner. I am no longer working on a novel. I am no longer a butcher, a baker or a candlestick maker. I am a mother & my hobbies include homemade organic (baby) food, long walks along the duck pond (with a stroller & a baby carrier), & collecting fine (finger painting) art. I read Goodnight Moon, Dr. Seuss, & Winnie the Pooh & enjoy the toddler’s rock station on Pandora. It’s who I am & it’s what I’m truly good at.