When I was in high school, I had a specific view of what my life would look like: somehow I would be both a stay at home mom and yet have a very successful career in some chosen profession (it all depended on how I felt that particular day); I'd be married to the man of my dreams; we'd have a little white house with a little white picket fence; there would be a big oak tree in the yard and on it would be a tire swing; sitting on the front porch would be our lazy family dog; and playing out in the back yard were our 2 kids- a boy (oldest) and girl. Sometimes there would be a third child in this dream, but its gender never really mattered.
I've now been out of high school for 12 years, and my reality is just a tad different from my dream.
I went to college to get my "very successful career", but after graduating, I realized it wasn't quite the field for me. I also realized that I was pregnant and my boyfriend and I weren't married. After running up some credit card bills, our credit took a nosedive, so the possibility of getting the "little white house with the little white picket fence" wasn't in the cards, and there aren't many apartment complexes with big oak trees right out your front door, so there went that picture, along with the tire swing; and since most apartment complexes either don't allow pets or else they're too small for them, we ended up with a lazy cat instead. And the kids? I now have 3 boys- all male.
In fact, the only part of my dream that came true was marrying the man of my dreams. I know- its a mushy statement. Well, I'm a girl- I'm allowed to be mushy. Heck, in a household full of males (our cat is a boy- even our fishes have boy names!), its my God given right- no RESPONSIBILITY- to be as girly as possible.
You'd think that I'd be disappointed that not all of my dreams came true, but God never promised me that life would be like Disneyland- where all your dreams come true. And, honestly, I wouldn't change a thing.
Well- right now. Ask me if I would toward the end of the day when I'm watching the clock, waiting for the boys' bedtime, and wishing I could have a glass of wine.
So, why 'Take 3'? Well, for an obvious reason- my youngest was born on Dec. 30th. 3rd child. 3rd. boy. 3rd chance to get the 'Mommy of the Year' award... You'd think that wouldn't be so hard, but apparently they have really high standards for the definition of 'Mommy of the Year'. I've heard they frown on some of the things I do as a mom, but I'm still crossing my fingers.
This is also my 3rd chance to get back the body I had in high school. Of course, there's the very real possibility that the only way that'll happen is through extensive plastic surgery, but I always was a sucker for lost causes. I think, though, that if I put it out there into the ether that I'm on a mission to shed the "baby weight", that maybe I'll become a MILTSDAHCW ('Mom I'd like to sit down and have coffee with'- what? You've never heard of that one?) by Christmas. We'll see.