Sometimes I remember how selfish I used to be, not on purpose, but out of shear ignorance. I used to be the center of my own universe and my days were solely about me. It sounds much worse than it was. I was single, no children, no boyfriend (at least not a serious one), and my life had no real meaning. I liked myself, sort of, but in actuality when I look back I'm not really sure there was much substance to it all. Once upon a time I planned on having children but then age and circumstance seem to push that 'plan' aside and I'd resolved myself to the fact that I'd never be a mom. Well fate had other plans for me, thank God! I still remember the night I found out I was pregnant and there wasn't one moment that I wished it wasn't true. My boyfriend (now husband) thought differently, he was 4 years younger than I and believe it or not...more selfish than I. I didn't care what he thought, I was going to be a mom and that in an instant changed everything. I'm not sure if it was my determination or my willingness to go it alone that brought him around, but by the time Alice was born he was as non-selfish as I was.
It still amazes me that someone can live their whole life centered around themselves and then in an instant their life becomes someone else's.
If I were younger, maybe I'd resent the fact that every moment of my day is about my children, but I'm not younger. Even in the moments when I'm tired and feel as if my head will explode if I hear 'mommy, mommy, mommy' one more time, I'm thankful. Thankful that I am not selfish. Thankful that I have someone else to live for. Thankful that someday my children will grow up and realize they are selfish....and then they'll decide not to be.
I keep coming back here. It takes days, months, sometimes a whole year - yet I return, loyally. My life turns and turns and seems to come back to the same point no matter how many times I swear off my return. Maybe I should stop running. I suppose there are things that become a part of you no matter how often you try to shake them loose or shove them deep into the recesses of your mind. I went to a therapist recently because I was angry. It's not that being angry is abnormal but not knowing why you are so pissed off isn't exactly healthy. I suppose I was a little surprised when we started to talk about my childhood and my blood pressure rose; I thought I'd dealt with my demons. Apparently denial is not the same as dealing with something! So, I continue to go but the therapist suggested I start blogging again, it's a release of all the things I can't seem to share any other place.
So I'm here. I uploaded a recent picture of my babies partly to remind me happiness can be simple if you let it be, and partly because looking at them inspires me to be something better than I am. I wish it was easier to remember how to be happy.
I'll be back....sooner than later.