I am not a "Mommy" blogger. Yes, I am a mom. Yes, I am a blogger. But to say that I'm a "Mommy" blogger, to me signifies that my identity is just as a mom who is looking for a way to express myself. I can express myself just fine. I am my own person aside from being a wife and mom.
It always bothers me when people (specifically mothers) say that they "live for their kids". Listen, I am a damn good mother. My kids are polite, well-behaved, well-rounded kids. I take great care of them, I talk to them and they even talk back, and I am involved in their lives. They know I love them more than anything. But they also know, I think, that I have a life apart from them. I have a life at work. I have a life with friends. I have a life with Norm. They know that while I love them with my whole heart, I am also a person apart from them. And I think that's important.
In a couple of months they will all be going away to church camp for a whole week. And since Norm will still be deployed, I will have an entire week all to myself. I can't wait. I can't wait to be myself all by myself for a whole week. In fact, I've decided to take a trip to New York City that week. I've already booked my flights and hotels, and I'm looking into a couple of Broadway shows. I know there are some people who think it's strange that I'm going to NY all by myself. But the truth is, I don't mind being by myself. I don't mind seeing a show or eating on my own. I'm excited about wandering around the Met all alone and taking my time. I can't wait to eat what I want, when I want, and not worry about if someone else is hungry or if they're in the mood for the same food I'm in the mood for.
A few years ago I was in Europe visiting my sister, and I got one whole day in London all by myself. My friends have all said I was crazy for being someplace where I didn't know anyone else in the entire country. But I loved it. I grabbed a sandwich at a corner store and ate while watching ducks at a pond in Hyde Park. I went to Harrod's and bought an odd dinner of garlic Naan and Spanish olives and Swiss chocolate, and ate while looking at a British Vogue in my hotel room. It was fabulous.
And here's how weird I am: a few months ago I spent a weekend all by myself in a city a few hours away. For the entire weekend, I spoke with an accent, just because I could. Sometimes I feel so hemmed in by my life. It seems that it's already set out for me: a wife and a mom and a daughter and a sister who have so many people depending on me. If I act strange for a day, everyone asks me if I'm okay or what's wrong. I can't change my behavior from who I have always been without people questioning me. While I love my life, I like knowing that sometimes I can be someone different for a while. It was fun being able to pretend for a while. It was fun to act like I was a girl with an accent. It made me feel like I could explore my options a little. And then I was ready to go back to being a mom with a Midwest accent, taking care of my kids and my husband, making sure my parents were okay, being a responsible aunt and sister. All of that felt welcome after being someone else for just a couple of days.
My point is: I am who I am, and who I am doesn't revolve around my children. I can talk about things other than my kids. I have interests apart from my kids' interests. I am more than a wife and mother. I'm just me.
So don't call me a "Mommy" blogger, okay? I'm just a blogger, who happens to be a mother. And knowing that I can be all of it at once makes me love all of my jobs even more.