30 Days of Truth, Day 5- Something you hope to do in your life.
Ah, finally… something not so insanely painful or mortifying!
I’m a true blue dyed-in-the-wool Mommy. My kids are everything to me. There’s nothing that has ever been more important than always being there for them. They’ve never been to daycare, and they’ve never come home to an empty house after school. Every cookie in this house, has been homemade. I’m sort of crack-y like that. I’m up until 4 in the morning on Christmas Eve, Easter, etc… sewing things while they sleep so they don’t know I made them. They’re nice enough to pretend.
My venture into mommy-hood began quite early…
August 1, 1994, about a month after my 18th birthday. I’d finally gotten my college paperwork, and was heading to the University of Oregon. On a scholarship. My mom didn’t go to college, and she was overjoyed that I was getting out of Sandpoint- and SO excited I was going to college. I was excited for her to get home from work so I could tell her about the scholarship… I’d applied and dreaded not getting it- knowing my mom would die working before I chose to not go. I’d been sick all week- feeling horrible and throwing up constantly, thinking it was nerves or my usual end of the summer cold… and I realized something…
My period was late. Over a week late. Oh shit….
I had to work that day so I stopped at the grocery store on the way, and bought a pregnancy test. Realizing more and more that I had more than a few symptoms. Uh oh… I didn’t even unlock the store before running to the back bathroom and taking the test.
The pink line showed up immediately. No doubt about that one… I didn’t have to wait 3 minutes… but I did… thinking it might go away. No dice. It was practically red. So I did what any delusional pregnant teenager does…
I took the other test… and it was only darker this time.
Oh my God in heaven. It was definite. I was pregnant. Very much so, if I gave the color of those lines any credit. I’d also just found out my boyfriend was cheating on me. Same day. Oh boy. Not a bright moment in history, that’s for sure.
And yet… I was totally at peace about it. I knew I was having the baby- and I’m completely pro-choice – it wasn’t a religious decision. I just knew he was meant to be. I knew my whole entire life was about to explode around me… and I was fine. Content even. Because what I always really wanted to do? Was have kids, and be a good mom. I was heading to college more out of my love for my mother, than anything. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and I really wasn’t excited about leaving. Don’t get me wrong- it was a shock- and the months that followed weren’t easy. I love being a mother, I never felt too young and he’s an amazing kid. Meet him once and you’d completely agree with me. He was worth the sacrifice.
We were one of those rare couples that got married. We’ve since gotten divorced but we also have a daughter, great memories and a close friendship.
I really hope to go to college at some point. Even just to keep learning something. I want to learn Spanish… and Italian. Chinese too. I’d like to go just for the experience of going- hell I’d love to be in a sorority…but it might be weird if my kids are the same age as the other girls. I’d love to go to nursing school, so I have something to do with myself after my kids are grown and gone. It can wait- I’m not worried about it.
Because I’ve already gotten to do what I really hoped…
Be a mother.♥