Redefining

For the record.

I love being a "young" parent. I love that my children are self sufficient and I'm only slightly middle age.

I went to the school carnival last night. Since my oldest is a "senior," we couldn't miss the last opportunity. If you know me well, you know how much I love to people watch. I love to observe and study people. School functions are pure fodder for sociology.

I see the mothers. All of them. Talking. Gossiping. Worrying. Flip flops. Bad mouthing. Dyed hair. Posting. Texting. Bored. Yoga pants. Mildly interested. Giving cash. Receiving treasures or junk to hold. Genuine laughter. Discomfort. Desiring connection. Grey hair. Painted nails. Fake laughter.

It's the whole enchilada, folks. I can spot it all.

Since moving to New York, I have learned that I did it all wrong. I should JUST NOW be starting to consider becoming a mother. I should have had a lucrative career in something, amassing a small fortune in the bank, a nice 401K stash, a luxurious freshly built home with 5 bedrooms and four bathrooms; and, then basically, with the 10 eggs I had left hope to have two beautiful children. One boy. One girl.

Here's how my story went....

I married my only boyfriend. Just one, friends, just one.

We married in October 2004 while Ryan was still in college. We were expecting Noah by January 2005 and I was supporting our family. I threw up all day, every day of 2005, while I processed rates and pricing for third party home mortgages, and Ryan was finishing his degree.

I had had it by week 39 and demanded, okay begged pitifully, (today I would demand) we get this child out of my body, so after 13 hours start to finish induction, we welcomed Noah four days before our first wedding anniversary. Incidentally we took an hour baby break and went to Bob Evans for breakfast to celebrate on 10/16. What a difference a year makes.

I went back to work and Ryan finished his degree in June 2006. He got a job and began traveling for training in July and by August, I called Utah, home.

Ryan traveled a lot so I stayed home with Noah. These were very lean years. That fortune? Not amassing. We were expecting Aaron by February 2007 and I spent the rest of the year throwing up and sorta attempting to watch Noah from the couch. (Pregnancy. Is. The. Worst.) Aaron arrived in October right next to Noah. These brothers will always be close.

Life was busy. Very busy with young children, and a traveling husband. I was an uncertain person. I was the mother talking, worrying, fake laughing, sporting yoga pants, desiring connection.

These years, the Utah season, was tough. Start to finish in personal ways. I wouldn't trade the chubby, "Chee" saying babies, for all the cash I could have accumulated during my younger years.

But I do have one regret.

And I think it might happen to most young mothers.

I did not take the time to cultivate and pursue my own interests.

The New York season has brought me these options. Did anyone know I would adore cats? That writing would be so fulfilling? That I was actually ambitious for my own desires?

I compare Utah Angela to Melanie Wilkes (with the exception that I was never quite as demure). New York Angela has willingly embraced the Scarlett side she always had.

Ryan and I will celebrate 13 years of marriage, and the boys will turn 10 and 12, all this coming October.

I would not trade the whirlwind.

I would trade the vomiting.

I am satisfied with the mixing of Melanie and Scarlett.

History will prove the New York season to be defining.

Redefining.