Becoming a mother does something to your self-esteem. I don't know how many times I've thought (or heard) some variation of the following:
"You should have seen me before I had kids. I used to be __(fill in the blank)__!"
Skinny.
Groomed.
Fashionable.
Punctual.
Calm.
Focused.
Sane.
I have heard my mother-in-law, who has nine children, fill in the blank with "intelligent."
I most frequently fill it in with "organized."
Of course, all mommies know that the children who enter our lives and change us forever are worth infinitely more than all the attributes and freedoms we had to relinquish with their coming. Who cares about stretch marks, bags under the eyes, perpetual fatigue, and appearing like a hopeless scatterbrain? When we're surrounded by the people we love most in the world—the ones for whom we have poured out our lives and for whom we gladly continue to do so—these sacrifices seem small. The choice was good and right, and given the chance, we'd do it again in a heartbeat.
Unlike the United States, Ukraine does not have many dark-skinned people, or Asians, for that matter. It's a fairly homogenous white society, which means that anyone of non-European descent stands out and might be exposed to ridicule, or worse. However, although I'm half Japanese, I've been fortunate.
Okay, I guess that's not the title you'd expect for an announcement of this nature, but that's kind of how I'm feeling at the moment..jpg)
One afternoon not too long ago my husband and I were on a date. All we were doing was sitting on a park bench talking, but since we didn't have the kids with us, it felt like a holiday. One nice thing about being out and about without kids is the ability to people watch, and on this day we saw something fascinating. It was a mother with three daughters about the same ages as our three sons. (That would be 5, 3, and 1, for those of you keeping score.) She parked her stroller by a bench, let her toddler out, then sat down and opened a book.