Elevator conversations are a funny thing. When you're in a 7x7 box of steel suspended by hoist cables, your biggest concerns are 1. you leave enough space around you so that people don't think it's ok to pile in there to test the maximum weight limit, 2. you can hold your breath for as long as it takes in case you get stuck beside someone who doesn't believe in deodorants, and 3. you push the right button. Inevitably, when confined in that small of a space, strangers feel compelled to make small talk even if they comment on the most palpable thing like the weather. But this morning, on my way up to my floor, I got blindsighted.
"Oh my God, the last time I remember seeing you, you were a skinny little thing with a big baby belly," a lady from the other side mused. It took me about 2 seconds to realize that she was talking to me. Now I admit I can be very bad with names, but I don't even recall ever seeing this lady before. To be polite, I gave out a small laugh.
"My baby is one now... and growing by the minute," I responded. And then she said something that stung... and even after the elevator doors opened and she walked out to the floor, I was still trying to process it.
"I hope you're ready! As a mom, you can kiss your identity goodbye!", she said as the elevator doors closed. At first, I wasn't quite sure whether to take it as a joke or a threat. Is it true? Do we really lose our identities when we join the secret club of parenthood? I like to think not.
Yes --- life's changed since Ethan was born. I no longer worry if my haircut makes my face look fat or whether my legs have been shaved within the past 3 days (sometimes even weeks). Instead, I obsess whether Ethan is getting enough fruits and vegetables everyday.... if his socks match his outfit.... or if we've taken every thing important or dangerous out of reach since he gets into everything.
But no, I don't think I've lost my identity... I just gained a new one. A more powerful one in fact -- one where I'm responsible for shaping this whole other individual to self-directing. I am still the crazy Anne that gets pissed off whenever someone cuts me off (I get so mad that my knuckles start making dents on the steering wheel), only I get even MORE mad when they cut me off while Ethan's in the car with me. I'm still the same person who enjoys photographing life, except now I have a family that I would love nothing more than to capture every loving minute of our lives. I'm still the same person that Mike married who loves surprises and traveling to new and exciting places, except that I think spending $1000 on a weekend getaway is a bit too much.
I don't look at life now as if there is a whole new life before that I miss, because I trully don't. And if I were asked to trade my blessings now for what I had before, my answer would be a resounding no.
"Oh my God, the last time I remember seeing you, you were a skinny little thing with a big baby belly," a lady from the other side mused. It took me about 2 seconds to realize that she was talking to me. Now I admit I can be very bad with names, but I don't even recall ever seeing this lady before. To be polite, I gave out a small laugh.
"My baby is one now... and growing by the minute," I responded. And then she said something that stung... and even after the elevator doors opened and she walked out to the floor, I was still trying to process it.
"I hope you're ready! As a mom, you can kiss your identity goodbye!", she said as the elevator doors closed. At first, I wasn't quite sure whether to take it as a joke or a threat. Is it true? Do we really lose our identities when we join the secret club of parenthood? I like to think not.
Yes --- life's changed since Ethan was born. I no longer worry if my haircut makes my face look fat or whether my legs have been shaved within the past 3 days (sometimes even weeks). Instead, I obsess whether Ethan is getting enough fruits and vegetables everyday.... if his socks match his outfit.... or if we've taken every thing important or dangerous out of reach since he gets into everything.
But no, I don't think I've lost my identity... I just gained a new one. A more powerful one in fact -- one where I'm responsible for shaping this whole other individual to self-directing. I am still the crazy Anne that gets pissed off whenever someone cuts me off (I get so mad that my knuckles start making dents on the steering wheel), only I get even MORE mad when they cut me off while Ethan's in the car with me. I'm still the same person who enjoys photographing life, except now I have a family that I would love nothing more than to capture every loving minute of our lives. I'm still the same person that Mike married who loves surprises and traveling to new and exciting places, except that I think spending $1000 on a weekend getaway is a bit too much.
I don't look at life now as if there is a whole new life before that I miss, because I trully don't. And if I were asked to trade my blessings now for what I had before, my answer would be a resounding no.
Who'd want to give this up?
4 comments:
Beautifully written, Anne!
Very nicely said. (I am a friend of Janice)
Anne, I live in Boardman. Where in Cleveland do your inlaws live?
Amen!!! Period!
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