Along came baby number one, a son. A bright, shining boy who would forever change the course of my life and make me a better person simply because God gave J to me. Having this child taught me new and amazing truths about myself. Not that I was any less ambitious, but my priorities changed and somewhere between conquering the world and conquering the laundry, I became more MOM and less ME.
After the birth of child number two (a daughter) my life turned into a cycle of sleepless nights and terribly lonely days. I lost the picture of myself as a conqueror and found in it's place a tired, cranky, woman whose only remaining goal was to get at least four hours of sleep per night and not kill the husband (who got to leave the apartment prison every single day and interact with ADULTS at work).
Time, as the saying goes, marches on, and the children are now high schoolers. Brilliant, happy, young adults who give me more pleasure than pain. These two amazing humans call me mom...But sometimes I wonder if they realize that I am more (OH, so much more) than MOM. Please don't misunderstand me, I do NOT want them to call me by my given name. I want them to know that being their mother has been the greatest adventure of my lifetime and I would not trade these last 16 years for all the money in the world.
I want them, especially my dearest, willowy, blonde daughter to know that I am more than just a mom. I am a woman of passions and possibilities.