Identity Theft

Let me begin this blog by saying WOW. I sat down to write my first blog out of frustration, anger, annoyance, and self pity. I never really expected many people to read it, let alone provide me with such touching feedback.

After I posted my first blog "The Struggle IS Real" (http://mommaisstrugglin.blogspot.com/2015/11/the-struggle-is-real.html) I received so many private messages and comments with similar stories of hell...Errr...Similar stories of our day to day life as mommas. It was touching, motivating, and liberating to know we aren't in this alone AND you wanted to read more from me! SO THANK YOU!

Tonight I want to discuss how our little sweet bundles of heathens steal our identities.

This begins at conception, I believe.

You see...what happens is once the sperm meets the egg, the game is over. The battle is lost. We no longer have any control over our bodies or our capabilities. I'm pretty positive of this.
I may be biased since I think I've been pregnant nonstop since January 2011? Whatever. Regardless, once we get pregnant, we lose ourselves and become someone we don't recognize anymore.
Can I get an Amen?

But seriously, once conception happens, we become sick, miserable fat women that are creating the most beautiful and precious thing on this earth. Our interests of clubbing and dancing at the bar is now traded with sipping lemon water and chewing on ginger snaps to keep the nausea under control. Our days of reading Fifty Shades of Grey has now turned into reading What to Expect... Our souls are captivated by these little tiny humans growing inside of us from day ONE of pregnancy. We spend our free time now reading on babycenter.com and joining pregnant forum groups, so we can ensure every symptom we are experiencing is in fact normal. For Christ's sake, if you've been in a good birth group, you even have seen pictures of other people's cervical mucus smeared o toilet paper with a captain, "IS THIS NORMAL? I AM 10 WEEKS PREGNANT". This most certainly was NOT a hobby of mine pre- pregnancy....

Motherhood changes our behavior.

Pregnant people compare baby bump sizes, miseries, pains, aches, and excitement. Conversation with non- pregnant friends becomes some what stale and true effort is made by each person to continue the fun friendship it once was. Pregnancy...motherhood... it changes us.

So then the baby is born. We all boast our birth stories like it's the worlds best selling novel. "Well I had 478 hours of labor and THEN had to get an emergency c-section and THEN a blood transfusion and then THE BABY SPENT 60 DAYS IN THE NICU!!!!!!!!!!" AND just when you think no other Mom can top that story, by GOLLY THEY CAN AND DO. But at the the end of all the traumatic birth stories and amazing birth stories and emotional birth stories, we are left with one thing in common: We are all Moms.

Motherhood changes our conversation.

So the babies become toddlers. And now our life revolves around play dates and parks and story time and snacks and survival... and suddenly we look in the mirrow (and we are probably pregnant by then again) and then we realize we are staring at a stranger.

Every single aspect of our lives gets devoured by these sweet babies... Our friendships revolve around other Moms. Our shopping trips are no longer to Express and Victoria Secret. We hoard Gymboree coupons and stalk the sales at Old Navy. We look in the mirror and realize that our activities and hobbies and interests are no longer ours.... We do everything for our kids. Because we want to. because frankly we have no time for ourselves. And now we have wrinkles. And gray hair. And stretch marks. Who have we become? Who am I?

You know, the other day, I was chatting with a dear friend of mine and she told me she went to college for Early Childhood Ed. Same as me. Yet after a few years of friendship,we are JUST discovering this? Are you kidding me?!

So who am I? Am I still a teacher? Do I still love to sign in ASL to popular songs on the radio? Am I still the free spirited girl that sprinted down the streets of Washington DC and through the metro with no shoes on so I could be the first in line to score a ticket to RENT? Am I still the girl that can remember every song lyric to any pop band during the 90s? Am I still the girl that can kick ass at left defense on a soccer field? Do any of my friends know how into musical theatre I was? Or how I competed in Tae Kwon Do for years? I know I am still this girl, somewhere. I can still do a roundhouse 360 kick and a flying side kick. I can still sprint my ass off on a soccer field. I can still sing my favorite Broadway tunes right on pitch, just like I once did. But I just don't anymore... Because of my little tiny identify thieves.

Moral of the story: Let's try not to lose ourselves and our souls in our children. Lets try to model to them who we are so they can become what they want to be. Lets let our friendships converse about our past interests and hobbies rather than our current and frankly, temporary activities.

The struggle is real, Mamas. Let's balance our identities.

Here are some pictures that kinda sum up who I was before I became a Mama...

                                                   I was the girl to always get on stage,,,

I was the girl that could ALWAYS throw down

 I was the girl that would curl up inside of a sleeper sofa and pretend it was a roller coaster.

I was the girl that bought novelty and stupid gift shop items because...why not? Now I freaking have to to avoid toddler tantrums.... 

I was the girl that dressed up in a slutty Halloween costume (and found a pet cow on the Metro?). Now my costumes are family based and very G rated.

I was the girl that danced in random restaurants.

The girl that would make new friends wherever I went.

The girl that would dance holding a MD flag in the middle of Rockville Town Center.

The girl that would do and try anything once. 

I don't want to lose that girl. I perhaps need to tone it down? Ha... but not lose it... I love that girl. 

Now this is me.....