Damn, it's been a long time.
I'm sitting in my basement, staring at the computer screen, and waiting for inspiration to strike. Writing about the daily happenings of my life used to be second nature to me but apparently, motherhood has changed all of that. I keep waiting for my 14 month old daughter to come running into the room, demanding her space on my lap. But it's quiet here this Sunday morning. Lorenzo, my boyfriend, has taken our daughter upstairs to visit his mother. And for the first time in what seems like centuries, I have the house to myself.
To write.
So where do I begin?
Once upon a time I knew EXACTLY who I'd turn out to be. In 7th grade we had to write a report on our futures. Nervous, I stood in front of the classroom and read the story of all my hopes and dreams. I would grow up, go to college, move to a penthouse in New York, and make my living as a writer. I'd travel all over the world, meet new people, make great friends, and most importantly, I'd always have a story to tell. At the end of my reading, my classmate Nadene raised her hand and asked,
"Who's going to watch the kids while you're travelling all over the place?"
"I'm not having any kids."
"What's your husband going to say about this?" She countered.
"I'm not having a husband either."
She was silent for a few seconds before responding, "You are so selfish."
I was stunned. I'd had the same best friends my entire short life. I loved them, I'd do anything for my friends and family. Did not wanting to commit to a husband and children really make me selfish? I decided in that moment that if that's what people thought about me, then so be it.
I still wasn't having any kids.
Fast forward twenty years and in many respects my life was pretty similar to what it had been in 7th grade. I was still writing, though it had taken the form of a daily myspace blog. I still lived in the Boston area (like so many Bostonians I absolutely hate NY and had long since retired my plan of one day living there). And I still had the same best friends I'd had in grammar school. My family still lived in my hometown of Cambridge and that's where you could find me almost every weekend. I travelled every year. Jamaica, New Orleans, California, Mexico...my friends and I really lived it up.
If you had asked me then I would have told you that my life was as perfect as I could wish for. Everyday was pretty much the same. I woke up at 6:00 a.m. and headed to the gym. I worked out for an hour and half before going to a job I adored as an Admin at New England School of Law. After work, I'd meet my girls for dinner, drinks, or a movie. And each night, I'd be in bed no later than 10:00 p.m. to ensure I was rested enough to do it all over again the next day.
What some would call monotony I called safety. My life had veered dangerously off-course for several years and so the sameness of my routine felt good to me. I had the best friends anyone could ask for. They were my soulmates, much more so than any husband ever could be. And their children were my children. I was finally at peace. Until one day, at my roommate's urging, I decided to try an online dating service. I thought it would be hilarious. I'd have a couple of bad dates and endless stories to regale my friends and blog readers with. I signed up for a 30 day membership and waited for the parade of losers to contact me.
They never did.
I got one email and one email only.
It was from a guy in Chicago. Black, vegan, and a football fan.
Just like me.
We started emailing each other for several weeks until the night he finally called me.
We talked on the phone for about 8 hours straight.
By the time we hung up I knew I'd found "the one."
And I was screwed.
Because I loved my life of sameness and routine. I'd never wanted all the messiness that comes from emotions and love. But...that's exactly what I ended up with.
It's been three years, one cross country move, and a daughter later and my life is as different as anything I could imagine.
Gone are the days of leisurely lunches with the girls, afternoons of outlet shopping or salon days but...I don't miss it half as much as I thought I would.
I always thought that if I ever had children I'd be the world's WORST mother. That's why I never planned on having any. Nadene was wrong, I wasn't selfish I just didn't believe in myself and I didn't think it'd be fair to bring a child into this world if I didn't know how to care for him or her.
When I very accidentally got pregnant and finally decided to have the baby I bought every book on pregnancy you can possibly imagine. I watched dvds on natural child birth, breastfeeding and attachment parenting. By the time my daughter was born I'd tried to learn everything I could about how to be a good mom.
But the one thing the books never mentioned is this: after 30+ years of knowing exactly who you are, motherhood changes EVERYTHING. When I got pregnant I told Lorenzo that he would have to stay home with the baby, because working was too much a part of my identity for me to give it up. During the second trimester I decided that I would stay home for "a little while" to nurse my child. On the day my daughter was born I took one look at her before turning to Lorenzo and saying, "Looks like you'll have to get a second job cuz I will never work again." I had no idea it was possible for ME to love another human being so much. I used to love waking up to the sound of the alarm clock and knowing exactly what my day had in store for me. Now I wake up to the feel of my daughter butting her head into my chest and it is the sweetest feeling on this earth.
You just never know who you're going to be as a mother until...it happens.
And it's not all good times. Not being able to pee or take a shower without my child bursting into the bathroom can get VERY annoying. And God knows I can't wait till Amira is potty changed but...when she smiles at me with her toothy grin I melt inside. This may be a whole new world for me but...it's one I'm actually enjoying a lot.
