Wanting to Change More than Just Diapers

I do not know what I want to be when I grow up. I mean, being the Queen certainly has its perks, but boy, is it a tough job, which is all too often thankless. There are mornings I wake up and I would gladly pass my crown off to the first person waiting in the wings. 

I really never envisioned myself being a stay-at-home-queen.  I knew I always wanted children, but I just assumed I would have the perfect job, which would provide me with the flexibility to have a healthy balance in my personal and professional lives. Yeah right, like that’s realistic.

Ironically, when I was a child, I knew the exact career path I would take as an adult.  I believed I was destined to become the best veterinarian/pop sensation/professional revolutionary/nurse/farmer/lawyer the world had ever seen. And I had no doubt in my mind that I would be successful in all my career choices. I knew I would find the time to do everything and do it all perfectly.  I would carefully create that necessary balance required to have a healthy and stable home life as I successfully blended my singing career with my 24 hour emergency animal hospital while educating and organizing the exploited coffee farmers with whom I would tend the fields in a remote village in Guatemala.  And of course all this would be done while I had a baby strapped to my back in a hand woven sling that I made, naturally.

Needless to say, none of my childhood ambitions were ever achieved.  All except for the one about the baby and these days he does not want to be worn in a sling or even carried since he is now quite mobile and exploring the world on his own terms.  Instead of standing in front of court room championing for unions and universal health care, I stand in front of the kitchen sink soaking and sanitizing sippy cups.  Rather than providing maternal and pediatric medical care to the underserved population in our nation’s inner cities, I serve raisins in pink and purple bowls to my children on a daily basis.  Perhaps my longing for “something else” has become heightened after my recent re-reading of The Feminine Mystique or because I always knew that I wanted more than to become a mom who showered 2-3 times a week, regularly sported hot pink Hanes Her Way sweatpants, and changed so many doodie diapers that she lost count after the first 1,000.  Well, guess what? I have become that mom. Yes, I am that unkempt, sleep deprived mother who has worn holes into her magenta pants, all while trying not to spill my 4th or 5th lukewarm cup of coffee.          

Not too long ago, a dear and wise woman told me that I should not spend so much time figuring out what my next move will be.  She suggested that I should not be so concerned with what I will become, but rather work on bringing my attention into the present moment.  Mindfulness lets us absorb the richness of the moment instead of going through life with half of our attention on the future—something we have little or no control over anyway—she told me.  “You are where you are supposed to be”, she gently stated.  I guess I need to practice joyfully rejoicing in who I am.  I am the Poopie Queen—for now, at least.