Posted on May 31 2018
I’ve always loved kids. When I was six, after both of my younger siblings were born, I told everyone I was going to have 12 kids. That completely changed one night when I stumbled across a National-Geographic-Style video my aunt had recorded of my mom giving birth to my baby brother. As a small child, those alien-like images jarred my soul, and I promptly lowered my goal to six kids. Please don’t ask me why I still wanted to do that six times. Nevertheless - I have always wanted children.
My original plan was to be famous by 20, married by 25 (hopefully to Justin Timberlake), pregnant by 27 (also by Justin Timberlake), and having my second kid at 31. But my life followed a different path. Instead, I was married at 29, divorced by 30. I started my 30’s broken from my failed marriage which was, consequently, my deepest fear, and confident that there was a real possibility that I would not be having kids during this lifetime. And you know what? I was okay with it. I made my peace with it. And I poured my love for children into my nieces and nephews. I was happy for the chance to be in their lives and grateful that they called me Auntie.
My two best friends who were moms, always laughed and called me “bougie.” Apparently, the things I do and want are “outlandish”. But I had accepted my kid-free life and wanted to enjoy my success, and not apologize for it. My mom-friends were successes in their own rights – my successes just happened to be more tangible. Like silverware from Bloomingdale’s, Millesimo bed sheets, yearly girl trips to Vegas, sturgeon caviar sushi, and the freedom to chase my career and independence around the country. I lived on my own time clock, was amazingly independent both financially and emotionally, and worked as a girl boss that slayed at her job. I was satisfied, accomplished, happy, and fulfilled. I didn’t need a man or a child to fulfill me in any way. I was completely whole.
He didn’t necessarily CHANGE everything, but he elevated it. He added to my life. He wasn’t intimidated by my success or my personality, and he laughs at my sassiness and accepts my fire, even when I am hurling it in his general direction.
For these reasons, I wasn’t surprised when he was the calm one when we found out we were pregnant.
Yes, I’m having a baby.
So, the twelve year old me, who wanted kids, should be doing cartwheels. But this is the 34 year old me who made the decision that kids weren’t in the plan for this life. I don’t see myself subscribing to the “mom” life. I don’t do yoga pants or messy buns.
My top priorities include frequent flier miles and hotel points. I don’t want to trade in my career, which I spent the last decade building. But how can you be the mom that works, wears Jimmy Choo’s and whose main closet staple is a leather jacket?
Guess, we will find out.
I’ll be the one exposing the struggles of maintaining my pre-baby lifestyle while my life is being beautifully transformed. I hope you can find solace, laughter, or hope in the way I approach this new stage in my life.
Either way, I’m gonna mom so hard, in my own way and in Jimmy Choo’s of course. See you at the park kids.