Self-Centered

We all all the centers of our own universe.

This occurred to me years ago when I was pregnant with Alyssa. At that time, I almost dreaded her being born, because at that point, I'd have to share her with the world. During the pregnancy, I loved having her right there, inside me, all the time. Where I went, she went. I knew, even before she was born, how much my life was going to change once she entered the world.

And while the thought enchanted me, it also kind of terrified me. I knew that once she was born, the real work would begin.

But now that she's eight, she has so many new experiences, memories that I am not a part of. That's good. It's great. She's building her own world, her own universe, and she's the center of it.

Last night, I went for a half hour walk. By myself.

I know!

Alyssa got teary-eyed when I told her I needed to go alone.

It made me feel bad to see her sad. But I wanted to WALK, not amble. I'd actually planned to try and jog, even for five minutes, but my stupid ipod stopped working (SOMEONE got it wet) and I can't stand to run without music. I can't stand the sound of my own breathing.

So I went. And I felt guilty even though I know that me-time is necessary, even encouraged. See, once upon a time, I was the center of my girl's universe. And these days, even as she drifts farther from me, she still wants to be near me, and I love that. Except when I need alone-time. Or just time to walk at a decent pace without having to make conversation, no matter how fascinating, with my eight year old.

And you know, you just KNOW that if I'd let Alyssa come Olivia would have been right there at the door, begging to go too. And while she's an excellent walker for a four year old with 5p-, she's SLOW. She'd want to stop at the bridge and look at the creek beneath, stop and poke at melting tar with a stick. Fun stuff during a Saturday afternoon stroll but not so much when you just want to walk for a half hour just for the cardiovascular benefits.

So I walked by myself. I enjoyed being alone in my universe, guilt and all.

See, I knew my life would change when Alyssa (and Olivia to a smaller extent) was born. But I didn't realize how much my very thought processes would change when I became a mother.

I didn't know that I'd suddenly worry about things like vaccinations and school parties. I kidn't know that I'd start leaving my keys in my car, that is safely locked in the garage, so that if we're faced with a zombie attack, we can get to the car and on the road without having to actually face-off with the zombies or worrying about where the damned car keys are.

I didn't know that my hundreds of movies would go unalphabetized for months because it's more important to make sure the girls have clean clothes every day than it is for me to know where each movie is at a moment's notice.

I've changed. In most ways, for the better. In some ways, not so much. I often say I was a great mom before I had kids. Somedays, even after the kids arrived, I still think I'm a pretty great mom. Other days? Not so much. But most days? I do okay. And in the end, I think that's enough. Because none of us are perfect, but as long as we keep trying, keep working to be better, what more can we ask of each other and ourselves?