I kind of want to learn conversational Spanish. And Sign Language. Just because I feel as though these things might make me more interesting.
I’d also like to say that I’ve been skydiving, though I am not sure I actually want to go skydiving. And, I would really like to get my PhD. and learn how to drive stick.
Someday, I want to visit Greece. And, I would like to have an idea of mine patented.
I want to learn to tap dance.
Some days I am afraid that I am living a bit of a hollow existence. Now, being a wife, mother, teacher, friend, daughter, neighbor, doggy mamma and spectacular driver are all really great and all. But, if I were on my death bed right at this moment, I don’t know if I’d feel satisfied that I’d led a life well-lived. I don’t know if my life is interesting.
Now, people with attitude problems all over the place might get all pissy and leave comments about how a real mom would be satisfied simply with her role as a mother. It is the most important job in the world. Blah. Blah. Blah.
It is important. I am thankful every day for the gifts I have been given. My children are amazing. And probably awesomer than your kids, anyway.
But, every once in a while I wonder which of my dreams I am letting die because I am watching America’s Next Top Model instead of learning expert knife skills at the local culinary institute. I have a bucket list. That bucket list itself is dying. I am getting too old to learn how to surf now. And, I think every so often about how many more things will simply never get crossed off of that list because I can’t leave my house since my kids are sleeping upstairs. And, toddlers aren’t welcome at Knife Class.
I know that the simple answer to all of this is just to get off my ass and start crossing things off of that list. But, as any responsible parent and working adult will tell you, doing things that are just for YOU isn’t something that happens too often for many of us. I am certainly not deprived. And, I have a good life, but I still haven’t ever tried a ridiculously expensive glass of wine or run a 5K. No. Really. RUN. The whole way. And, that makes me just a little sad.
I wish I could go back and tell the younger me to live it up a little more. Everyone tells you to be so responsible, save your money, get a good job, buy a home, settle down. But, not enough people tell you to have fun, get drunk, laugh, make a memory, take a funny picture of a friend at the base of the Eiffel Tower at 3 AM, sleep in, and own your stupid 2-seater dream car before you have to become an exhausted, minivan-driving, in-bed-at-10:00 grown-up.
As I sit today on the eve of the beginning of Off Duty Mom’s series on fertility issues we’re featuring via Guest Bloggers this month, I realize the seeming hypocrisy of it all. I blog and crab and complain about how tough it is to be a parent. Yet, I sat in doctor’s offices for YEARS where I cried and blamed God and cursed and puked because I was incapable of carrying a baby to term. And now, I have brought two amazing young angels into the world. And I still cry and whine and curse. And I blubber about how I wish someone would give me the time to travel to Scotland or learn how to skateboard.
Nevertheless, I realize that we all feel as though we’re missing something sometimes. We all wonder if life would just be better IF…
And, at the end of the day we all have something that we take for granted, but that someone else is wishing and hoping to have.
Starting tomorrow, we will publish our first in the series of guest posts about issues of pregnancy, adoption, fertility and miscarriage. Some of the posts are funny. Some are heartbreaking. Some are touching. Some are uplifting. I encourage you to check back often throughout December to read all of the posts.
Then, in January, I will stop being introspective, sappy, thoughtful and melancholy. Off Duty Mom will return to tackle important issues such as the classical philosophy of Handy Manny, bathtub turds, toddler beauty pageants, gray hairs, and public drunkenness.
Tune in tomorrow, though, for our very first (and very funny) installment in our December series from Pile of Babies author, Meredith Bland.