On Being Secondary

The moment I became a mom, I became secondary to the person I helped create. And for a while, I was okay with that. Conversations no longer started with, “How are you?” but rather, “How is the baby?” It grew with the birth of Bear, especially given all the time spent in the NICU with him.

I find that as they grow older though, I get a little more annoyed. I don’t just want to be Butter’s mom or Bear’s mom. I want to be a person! Then I remember I’m an introvert & don’t really care for talking to people, so I will inevitably be known this way for at least the next twenty years. I’m trying not to struggle with that. It’s the reason I’ve decided to do the 21 Day Fix. It’s the reason I read a lot, so I can occasionally make an observation about popular books. It’s also the reason I try like heck to keep my mouth shut about Fifty Shades of Grey [please tell me I’m not the only one who finds it humorous that my phone tried to autocorrect that to Filthy]. Look, I know it’s a ‘worldwide sensation,’* but it’s theft & it’s abuse. No means no, Edwistan Grullen. I’m sure somewhere in the very distant future, the boys will appreciate that I’ve kept most of my opinions on that crap to myself. At least they’ll appreciate it not being where a Google search will find it, anyway.

I digress.

I’m trying to be better at putting my needs before those of the kids. Physically, there are times when I need it. Mentally, I need my quiet time to read my Bible & books to make me a more sane wife & mom.

Mostly, I just want to be first in something again. If that makes me selfish, so be it. I’ll be a selfish, happy mom who doesn’t contemplate a bottle of wine when her kid buys breakfast AGAIN FOR THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK despite knowing how much trouble he’ll be in if he goes against instructions. Did you know that winning a bear because you play a game at breakfast makes Skylanders disappear? It does in our house.

*Dear Internet, someone please┬áinvent a sarcasm font. Please. Just make sure it doesn’t look like comic sans. Kthx.

[Written in the front seat of my car, sitting in the garage while Bear naps in the back seat. Thank you, Jesus, for Wifi that reaches into the garage.]

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