The Gift: An Open Letter to My Kids

Let's get it out in the open.
Things have been different lately.
It looks like I'm here,
but my mind is somewhere else.
You're acting out.
You're used to having Mommy around,
nursing every wound, making ice cream sundaes,
listening to every run-on sentence steam-rolling through your charged-up, little brains.

I love being that mom to you guys.
I gave up a twenty year career to be that mom.
I wanted to see for myself what I was hearing second-hand from the nanny.
I wanted to see you grow up.
And I have never regretted my choice.
(Ok, temper tantrums and bratty behavior don't count.)

So here's my gift to you.

No, it's not an IPod.
No, it's not a cell phone.
It's a lesson.
Yes, a lesson.
Now, shut up and listen, dammit.

Mommy's grow up, too.
Yes, even mommy's as old as me.
It's one of the cool things about life.
You keep growing and changing until your very last day.
But for adults, growth isn't measured in pounds and inches,
it's more a mental thing.
Like when you think you know all there is to know about math,
only to have your teacher introduce long division.

You see, that trip I took,
that "blogging thing",
jarred something loose.
Something that laid dormant for a long time.

Thinking back, I can recall hints of awakening.
A slight yawn here, an oxygenating stretch there.
But this trip splashed cold water on the face
of my yearning.

My need to be ME.

Not just the me who is your mom.
Me, the writer.
Me, the wife.
Me, the friend.

As an adult, life gets overwhelming.
We get buried underneath the weight of too many priorities.
Like choosing between mint chocolate chip or jamoca almond fudge.

It's easy to do lots of things,
impossible to do any of them well.

To tackle this problem,
I have a solution.
I'm putting myself first.
Yes, ME. FIRST.
At least SOME of the time.

Selfish. Definitely.
Shocking. I bet.
Bad mommy policy. I think not.

You see, if I don't do this now,
I may never do it.
These past few weeks have taught me that,
you can bury your dreams,
hibernate and adapt.
but like a bulb in spring,
your passion will always manage
to push it's way through.

So, aside from teaching you good table manners,
and not to pick your nose in public,
this is one of the most valuable lessons I will hand down to you.

It's good to be selfish.

Not hoarding all the Oreos kind of selfish,
put yourself first kind of selfish.
Because if you don't,
no one else will.

This took me decades to learn,
I'm saving you precious time.
Because before you can say,
"my mommy is soooo old",
you'll be as old as me.

Yes. Really. You will.

I'll try to be patient as you both adjust
to Mommy's new world order.
Just remember,
in the theater that is my life,
you two will forever occupy the front row.
Only now you'll have to make room for me.

Yes. Really. You will.



*photo courtesy of Google Images