I love my kids, and no one is more surprised than me

Shash inspired me. Or tagged me. Whatever. The point is, this post counts as fulfilling an obligation. To Shash.

Today is the day I drive back up to Nashville to reclaim my children from their grandparents, in more ways than one. It has been three weeks since I have seen their little faces and felt their wiggly arms.

I cannot wait.

As a woman who had motherhood thrust upon her unexpectedly, I’ve often struggled with the notion that maybe I wasn’t made for this parenting thing. I have in the past laid awake at night and dreamed about the what ifs, walking along the roads of my imaginary life without children and obligation. I’ve envied my friends with no kids and their carefree lifestyles.

And yet, after three weeks of “living the dream”, I am counting down the miles and the hours until I can be a parent again.

Here’s what I did while my kids were away that I could not have done with them here:

  • Spent a lazy day at the beach with friends and cocktails. (The kids and I go to the beach a lot, but it was a different experience to go as just an adult and not an alert mother.)
  • Went to a movie after work.
  • Got a pedicure after work.
  • Stopped at the store with no prior planning and browsed the ULTA aisles.
  • Slept in until 7am during the week.
  • Slept in until after 9am on the weekend.
  • Spent a weekend away with my husband.
  • Ate cottage cheese and/or cheesecake for dinner.


While some of that was nice and I did enjoy myself, I was surprised at the lack of free time I still seemed to have. I never felt like I had hours and hours on my hands to dive into projects I’ve been putting off.

I’ve come to the conclusion that children are not at all what is eating up my life and preventing me from living my dreams.

No, what I really need to do is quit my job. Only then will I be truly happy.

Seriously though. As nice as it was to have a little bit more freedom and a little more flexibility with my schedule, none of it came even close to filling the giant hole left by their absence. None of it. Not the movies or the shopping or the hotels or the cocktails.

None of it holds a candle to the brief moments when I would hear Devin’s voice bubble over the phone.

I never in a million years would have dreamed that I’d become one of these women. One of these women who stands up on the Internet and says “My children give my life meaning!”

But here I am. Loud and proud. And while I don’t want to take anything away from people who don’t have kids, I can say with absolutely certainty that that is not for me.

I, it would seem, am made for this parenting gig.

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