Nearly every day, I stumble upon another article or blog post or talk show interview about women who lost their identities when they became mothers. They speak of the driven, determined, confident women they were pre-children and the exhausted, milk-stained, yoga pants-wearers they’ve become.
They talk about feeling hemmed in by their new title, about wishing they were more than just Ethan’s mom or the person that signs the permission slips and drives the carpool on Tuesdays. They wax poetic about the successful careers they left behind to pursue motherhood full-time; they miss the thrill of being needed for something more pressing than poking the straw through the juicebox or mediating an argument about a broken Lego tower.
And I get it. I really do. Just the other day, I looked longingly at two Shop & Shop employees who were enjoying some of that lighthearted banter that gets you through the work day and I realized how much I miss having a co-worker who doesn’t spit pureed peas at me during the lunch hour and can actually string together intelligible sentences.
I miss having something more interesting to tell my husband when he asks about my day than a particularly gruesome blowout or the weird thing someone said to us in the grocery line…
…click here to read the rest of the piece over at Original Bunker Punks!