When I write my children notes, send them texts, write an email, I often stop and think about who is sending this: is it ME or is it MOM?
Crazy, right? When did my persona split, become two…when did this divergence happen?
For many parents, this happens early on – parental and public lives are decidedly cleaved. Work at the Office. Girls Nights Out. Date Night. Pursing dreams that are, *GASP*, not your children.
For me, this is just beginning. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to get married, really. I didn’t think I could ever have enough empathy, or bandwidth, to care for anyone other than myself. Working two jobs, paying student loans, living the single life.
Selfish? Yes. Realistic? At that time: Yes.
But ultimately: No.
Once I met my husband, I began to see the possibility of being married. Here was a man who was self-made. He came from humble beginnings and followed his dreams. He captured my heart, my imagination, my future.
We fell in love, he proposed. We got married, we had children. We moved cross-country, we moved around. We struggled, we argued, we made up, we moved on.
Fast forward 14 years, and I have two remarkable children. My husband and I are so proud of each of them, the men they are becoming. We are their parents, but we are also their mentors in many ways. We try to do the right thing, model the behavior and words, and are learning to adult along with them.
So when it comes to the words I write for them, the syntax, the placement: I am always Mom.