So picture this: I'm driving home from a bulk-peanut-butter shopping trip to BJ's. Bellamy is singing along to the Smashing Pumpkins in the backseat (because what 4-year-old DOESN'T know the words to "Bullet with Butterfly Wings?"). Sutton is alternately pulling off his socks and shoes and throwing them at me from his carseat while screaming "Cookie! Please! Cookie! Please!." It's over one hundred degrees outside, and I'm wearing black, of course. When suddenly, it hits me like a bolt of lightning.
I was not meant to have children.
Yes, folks, you've heard it straight from the horse's mouth. I am not Mommy Material. I am single girl, living alone with my dog, can't keep a houseplant alive, nothing in the fridge but lettuce, love my independence Girl. I miss reading in peace, sleeping late, cooking spicy exotic things (for which, I have to first do extensive grocery shopping), getting dressed up, and having spontaneous anytime-of-the-day sex. I miss blowing tons of money on any damn thing I want to buy and not feeling guilty that I'm buying something for MYSELF. I mentally shake my fist at fate, shake my fist at Blaker and his super-sperm. Damn them all. I mean, I love my kids, but how much can one really take before one loses one's mind?
Then, I get a reprieve.
Now, keep in mind, I NEVER get a break. Blaker is fantastic with the kids, helps out every afternoon/evening after work, is an absolutely amazing Dad...however, that does not EVER dismiss me from Mommy duty. Ever. (Or, as Bellamy would say, "EVAH.") But then, last Sunday, his mother comes up (a whole 'nother story for a whole 'nother day) and he and Paula take the kids to the botanical gardens while I get the WHOLE DAY OFF.
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? I'm so excited. It's a miracle. It's a BREAK!
I went shopping. I bought THINGS for ME (many, many lipglosses--I have a weakness for lipgloss). I went to the movies. I went to Barnes & Noble for HOURS. I had lunch. I had coffee. I had wine. I had EVERYTHING.
But, I did not have my family. I was lonely. One teeny, weeny little day to myself, and I was lonely. I am an ALONE person. I LOVE ALONE. But I missed my babies. I missed my husband. I missed having peanut butter smeared unbeknownst to me on some item of my clothing, having someone demanding I hold her hand, someone forcing himself into my lap. I missed drooly kisses and shrieking giggles.
I missed being Mommy.
And that is how I learned who I am.