I have been thinking lately about being a mother and how much it isn't what I expected. A better way to say it is that I am surprised at my reaction to motherhood. When I was pregnant with my first, I had some expectations for what it would be like to have a child. Of course, a 10-month battle with colic and a two-month premature nervous system pretty much eliminated those fantasies. But even that didn't really surprise me as much as my own reaction to being a Mom. I thought I would slide into the role with no looking back. Now don't get me wrong, I love my kids and I will protect them like a Mama Bear does her cubs. But sometimes I catch myself looking back into the past and wishing for that freedom. There are times when motherhood fits me like a too-tight dress, squashing the person on the inside. Am I overly selfish or is it natural to feel this way? I see some people who completely lose themselves in their role as Mom and I feel a little jealous. I wish it came that easy for me. You'd think after seven years, it would. Still, everyday, I find myself struggling a bit against what *I* want and what my role as mother demands.
I like to talk. I have two kids -- Jake and Molly (aka Moo). My husband is Dave. I hate bees. I was born and raised in the Motor City (really THE city, not the 'Burbs). Now I live amongst the soccer Moms and McMansions. This blog is about my life and whatever random thought pops into my head.