Today I stood at the gas pump, filling the minivan with regular unleaded, planning what to make for dinner, when a yellow fire truck pulled into the parking lot. As it began to turn, I realized it was going to park on the other side of the very pump we were using. I couldn't believe it! A fire truck up close and personal! My heart leaped for joy, and I turned to announce to my carful of children that the fire truck was going to stop right next to us! I was already planning in my head the discussion about how even fire trucks need gas to run, how firefighters sometimes need to stop for a soda too. It was a glorious moment.
It wasn't until I had turned halfway around, huge goofy grin plastered on my face, and I caught the eye of the fireman driving the truck that I realized I didn't have any kids in my car with me. I was standing alone in a parking lot gawking rapturously at a fire truck. Which then did pull in right next to me, leaving me to stand there, humiliated, through half a tank of gas filling, as the firefighters filled their tank 2 feet away from the crazy lady who clearly was trying to hit on them moments before.
I realize I spend a lot of time with my children. At least one of them is with me 14 hours a day, and sometimes a bit in the night, too. They are with me in the morning, in the evening, at every meal, when I shower, when I go to the bathroom; one is hanging on me right now as I type this. That's life as a stay-at-home mom. So why is it that when I finally find myself alone for an hour, I can't stop being a mom? Why do I not rejoice in my temporary freedom? Is my life really defined by my children?
The answer, in a nutshell, is yes. Right now in my life, I don't have room to be anything but a mom. Despite the parenting magazine articles imploring me to "do something for you," despite my husband's generous efforts to give me time to myself, I have forgotten how to be Kelly. I only know how to be "Mom." If I get a few minutes to run to the store alone, I spend half the time there looking at things for my kids. When I go out once a month for a "Mom's Night Out" we spend the whole time talking about our kids. When someone gives me a gift card, I inevitably end up using it to buy something for those little creatures who have hijacked my life for the last 12 years and show no signs of returning it in the next 25. And I'm surprisingly okay with that.
The fact is, I've learned to like watching Phineas and Ferb. I enjoy rocking out the the Chipmunks soundtrack in the carpool pickup line. I'm no longer bothered when I discover I've been singing along to the Barney CD the entire drive to the doctor, and the kids are not even in the car. I've found that Clue Jr is fun even when you cheat so your child has the advantage. And given the choice, I would choose an evening at the movies seeing an animated 3D movie with them over dressing up and going to a nightclub. And I don't care what anyone says, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is delicious.
I know someday I will get to have my brain back. I know someday I will be able to pee in private. But for now, I don't feel like I've lost anything, and I'd guess most of the moms I know feel the same way. Because I laugh more each day with my children than I ever did when single. I am more enlightened by the things that come out of my children's mouths than by anything I studied in college. And I feel more accomplished at the end of every day than I ever did when I worked full time.
If the consequence of all that is that I can't turn it off....that I'm in permanent mom-mode....I say it's worth it. And yes, I did watch Handy Manny while I wrote this....even after the kids left the room.
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