When I watch my daughter strut around the playground, I think: this is how I want to live: fully and boldly. She believes that everything is an adventure. And isn't it? Why should I view living in this beautiful world as anything other than an adventure? So, I find myself most afternoons whizzing down the tallest slide right behind her.
With an eye on getting some return on my investment, which included 10 months gestation, 12 hours of labor, opportunity cost of maternity leave and part-time work, as well as expensive hair appointments (okay fine, boxes of color bought at Rite Aid) to cover the gray hairs she has caused me, I have come up with some uses for my toddler.
Since my daughter has left the nest and seems to be taking wonderful care of herself with, of course, several attempts on my part to always remain important and necessary, I have noticed that I have become a bit motherly with my plants. I know exactly what it is like to be motherly because I have been in the parenting game for over 20 years.
When I look at me, I see a woman; a woman whose present version is inclusive of the woman she use to be. The woman who had a career that didn't involve baby wipes, who once enjoyed wearing heels and ridiculous amounts of eye makeup, who spent an hour straightening her hair, and who thought the best accessory was the perfect handbag.