http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v93/jdawg1311875/twoofus.jpg A Mother's Rant: May 2014

Friday, May 23, 2014

I'm a mom. That was all I ever wanted to be. When I was young, third grade maybe, the teacher had us draw a picture of ourselves in the future of what we wanted to be when we grew up. My mom worked most of my growing up years, but she worked as a waitress or a bar tender. I didn't want to do either one of those things. I drew myself as a secretary. Not because I wanted to be one, but because I thought the only two things I could be (besides what my mom did) was a secretary or teacher. I really didn't like my third grade teacher so I choose secretary.
All during my growing up years I played "house". I had dolls that I put to bed. I had boxes that made a washer and dryer and another one that I drew circles on to make it look like a stove. I had a real ironing board and an iron that plugged in and was warm. I played with my little house all the time. I don't remember sleeping with my dolls, they were my babies and I would gently put them in their own bed.I had a trunk of doll clothes. I loved it.
Fast forward to high school. I knew I wasn't smart enough to be anything really important (that was untrue, but I didn't know it at the time) so after high school I went to work for a large  electronic company that was hiring at at the time. I worked there for the next five or six years. I didn't leave there until after I had my first child.
Then came the best and hardest years of my life. I fought depression and weight gain. But through it all I was a Mom. I knew that somebody was depending on me.
Then seemingly overnight they were all gone. Poof! One day I woke up and they were all gone.
Now I find that the job that I have always wanted, even when I had no idea I wanted it is gone. I'm obsolete. Like last years cell phone.
Sometimes I miss my kids so much it hurts. They are scattered all over the world (with a son that soon will be in Afghanistan and a daughter in Canada). I rarely get to see then, we talk occasionally, but it never feels like enough.
To my children: I love you more than life itself.
Love to you all.