Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I used to be interesting. My conversations could be about anything from world politics to dissecting The Wall by Jean-Paul Sartre. I'd fill my brain with knowledge, live music almost weekly, and no art show that came to my city went unnoticed. I would juggle a lot. School in the morning, a PR job during the day, and cocktails at night. My life was fun and I did whatever I wanted. Todd and I decided to move to SF. And we did. We made the life we wanted.
Now, I am only semi-interesting if you have a kid. I have traded my reading from existentialism to natural parenting. The other night I was reading a little Dostoevsky on iBooks and when I dozed off after about two minutes my iPhone fell on my face. I notice that most of my conversations revert back to Olivia, or babies in general, pregnancy. I want to diminish this but how? My kidless friends must be bored to death. I am still me, but motherhood is consuming. It's hard to be Valeria + mom. It quickly becomes ValeriaMom. There's an overlap.
I am grateful for the great circle of friends I have made over the years, the same ones who knew me when I was carefree and now know me knocked up plus one. I'd like to think that they still like me the same, and I know they love Olivia. My hope is that they'll stick around long enough for me to be cool again, or maybe I never will be. Possibly they'll find the humor in dancing to Depeche Mode with a 19 month old or the fun of smuggling beer in sippy cups to the beach. I promise not to hand her off if she is crying or smells weird.
I am unapologetically head over heels in love with mothering, with this new role. I'll try to keep it light around them so they don't forget why we became friends in the first place. I look forward getting nights out here and there, dancing and wearing something cute.
But really, the mom gig is the best job I have ever had.