Wednesday, July 17, 2013


I was thinking today about my life...always a dangerous topic for a 40-something write-at-home mother in the throws of summer vacation, and I realized that the only thing that makes this a life I love and not the nightmare my younger self was so afraid of, is the perspective.

I told my friends that if I ever lived in the suburbs and drove a mini-van, to just shoot me. Put my out of my misery because I'd be so far gone, I'd not even be me anymore.

Huh. I hope none of you remember that, because most days find me driving my children, in my minivan, through our suburban sprawl to our club for swim practice, dive lessons, tennis and golf.

REALLY?  Really.

So I wonder from time to time, what ever became of that idealist--that free thinker, who vowed never to live outside the city limits and certainly would never have joined a...dare I say it? Country Club.

Well, she lived her life, found a family, became a mother and lost her mind.  Maybe not in that order, but you get my drift.

Twenty years later I realize I was not afraid of houses with 1/2 baths on the main floor as much as I was of losing who I was. Bike trails and common areas are NOT a threat to the person I am inside.

Motherhood, on the other hand, threatens my idealistic, younger self on a daily basis. Protecting and cherishing the children I hold near and dear, holds my brain hostage along with my wallet.  I sigh with relief in the rare moments they are both occupied with activities and I have the house to myself, then pace the empty space, not sure who I am or what to do without them underfoot.

Most of the time I think if I could have looked into the future, the younger me would have been disappointed in my homogenized suburban, mocha-chino life. But then, I remember something
Sam Keen once said, "Love isn't finding a perfect person, it's seeing an imperfect person perfectly."

And maybe such is life. So what if I don't have the perfect, politically relevant existence I always thought I'd live? I'm not even close. But as I take stock of all its imperfections,  and the path I took to get here, I see it perfectly. And maybe, that makes all the difference.

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