Friday, February 15, 2013

I remember being called a "wannabe" once in Junior High,
or maybe it was "You Poser!"
Whatever it was, it broke me for a second.
Worse than being called a nerd, a dork or a loser back then.
How dare you?!  
Now looking back?  I get it. . .the mean words from a snotty teen.
They were referring to the company the goodie-two-shoes in Calvin Klein shorts and squeaky clean Keds, was trying to keep.
The girl that CLEARLY was lost and trying to be something she wasn't.
Sidling up next to little punk skater boys, shorts down past their knees, belts connecting WAY too far past their skinny little hips.
Their beat up shins and skinless elbows, mohawk hair cuts and funky tees.
And me.
Clearly in the wrong crowd, but just wanting, like every other kid,
to be accepted.  The new girl in town from Minnesota, trying to find her place in Chicagoland suburbia.
Doing my best to try and Ollie in my pleated denims, pastel t-shirt and matching scrunchy, maybe a flannel shirt wrapped haphazardly around my waist, you know, for effect.
A total Wannabe.
I couldn't stand on a skateboard.  But I could stand next to one and look cool?
And these weren't my friends.  But I had to figure that out on my own.
Today, as a grown ass woman,
that term could still apply.
I wannabe a lot of things that I'm not yet, nor may ever be.
A lot of those things/ideas/roles may end up not being for me,
but "look" cool on others, so I try them on for size myself.
I don't want to BE someone else.  I'm past wanting to be ACCEPTED,
but want to continue to be something more for MY self, for MY children.
Before becoming a mother, that's all I wanted to be,
a mother.  Nothing more.  I was good with that.
But as the years pass, children grow, you often come to realize you DO want more for yourself.
Not that being a mother isn't enough.  It's more than.
But that one "role," the one definition by itself,
may be a bit stifling. 
So we, like our children,
continue to grow, find our way, find our place in this world, figure out what we're good at and accept what we're not, create new meanings and develop new dreams as we move along.
In the meantime,
it's learning to just BE what I am.  And embracing it.
A Teacher,
a Stopper-of-Time with my iphone, 
a Listener,
a Hot Chocolate Maker,
 a Self-Proclaimed DJ,
{I listen to hours of Pandora each week to put together killer set lists for my Yoga classes.
Take that Pauly D.  I'm good at listening to music.
Notepad above courtesy of my amazingly talented bro-in-law.}
Mmmm. . .what else. . .
I'm a Collector.
Gathering and stockpiling the most precious and hilarious notes from my 6-year-old,
that I find in the most random of places but always make me smile.
 (Grace is pushing hard for a baby sister.)
(Those are hotdogs, not, you know. . .weeners.)
Of course, a Photographer, 
a mom and woman that captures the most precious of moments only a mother could love.
"Quit talking and eat your food."  
A quiet Observer,
Someone who finds indescribable joy in spying on my 8-year-old as he tries to keep up with Just Dance 4.
A Counselor and Writer combined,
comforting and easing the mind of my 4-year-old who said a girl in class didn't want to play with him.
"She hurt my heart."
Easing his mind as I jot down and document every endearing thing that comes out of their little mouths for them to have one day.
I am Proud.
Proud that my children are being raised in a home stuffed to the brim with sarcasm and laughter and humor and not taking things TOO seriously and making a joke of almost anything.
Also Proud to receive notes from the preschool teacher, like this.
  I'm a Baker, 
who, yes, has a love-hate relationship with the activity.
but does it for them.
And him.
(Delish.  Brian.  Not the cake.)
(Although the cake's pretty f-in good too.)
Regardless of what I WANNABE,
I'm most Happy.  And Proud.
When Charlie came to me sobbing the other day, tears streaming down his face,
"I don't wannabe 100."
"Because I don't want to be lonely."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want to be an old man and live by myself.  I want to stay here in this house forever." 
Sad for his heart break, but my own heart happy and proud, that my children love who we are, love it HERE, LOVE their LIFE.
There's nowhere else, no ONE else, 
I'd wannabe. 




Kristin said...

Oh the note from Charlie's teacher is priceless....So glad to see Brian's beard is back,enjoy Liz!!!

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