About Me: Plan B

I didn’t intend to have very many children at all. The plan was two children and they were supposed to come after I’d completed my doctorate. Instead I sit here writing as a barely college educated individual with 5 children who call me Mommy. Occasionally I’ll look around trying to figure out whom they are talking to, only to realize that it’s me.

I’m the one who solves the problems, kisses the hurts, reads the stories, and fusses over the recent developments in height. It’s been 10 years now since I became a Mom, and even though it’s happened several times since then, a Dr. introducing me to a new little person who I’m supposed to guide through the world, I never fail to marvel at the situation I find myself in.

I blame my husband. His good looks, winning personality, and extremely intelligent discourse distracted me from the plan initially. I fell hook line and sinker for that boy. But then as each child was placed in my arms, something happened. I could see the little pieces of him that I loved reflected back in their smiles. And when I looked closer I could see something even more astonishing. There hidden among the soft curls, long eyelashes, and winsome smiles were tiny particles of me. I have to admit I was very flattered that my children would reflect even the smallest molecules of who I am. And that was when the old plan flew out the window. The new plan was much more simple.

I made a goal to be the best mom in the world. Author, writer, world changer… they’d all have to wait. I had a much more pressing job to do. I dare anyone to say that a Mom who is responsible for explaining life and death to a three year old whose pet frog suddenly stopped moving doesn’t have an important job. You want life changing? Try teaching an eight year old how to make the right choices about what he watches on television no matter that his friends all watch rated R movies and he feels left out. Do you desire adventure? Have a go at retracing your steps over a busy metropolis searching for the special shoes that your son tossed out a window at some point along the way, attempting to find them before a movie starts for which you already bought tickets. These can seem like petty errands, and indeed even to the most convinced mother there are times when we may look back at plan A and wonder. I know I have.

It took a Kindergarten open house for me to get a confirmation of what road I’d decided to take. There in the hall proudly displayed for all to see was my daughter’s picture of what she wanted to be when she grew up. “See Mommy, I want to grow up to be a Mommy just like you.” I have to admit that there were tears from me. Maybe I’d done something right after all.

I don't think many people who knew me when I was on the Plan A path would recognize me now. Sometimes I don't recognize myself. But it's too late to turn back now. I'm hooked. I'm addicted to this life. Even with the chaos. Even with the sleepless nights and lack of personal hygeine. This is where I'm at and I wouldn't change it. I defy anyone to try to take it away from me. I may not deserve it, but I have it. It's mine.
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