Yesterday, in the costume shop, shopping for the accessories to complete the kids’ Halloween costumes, I had a moment.

A discombobulated, where the fuck am I? Who am I? moment. I used to have them frequently when Archer was a baby. When I was dealing with the authorities, trying to bust the perpetrator with my identity theft.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid the thief is you.”


But I've been past that point for a while. I don't fantasize about running away like I did back then, rebelling against responsibility - masking truth with make believe. Kicking and screaming because No! I don’t want to grow up. Motherhood, don’t make me or else! Or else I won’t invite you to my birthday party!

I used to think it mandatory to reinvent myself often. With dramatic haircuts and color: from platinum to blue black to platinum again. I'd wander into a tattoo parlor or get something pierced. Just to look different - to send a message to the universe and myself that I was willing to change. Because sometimes the only way to feel different is to look the part. Put on a hat and do a new dance.

I have since found new and less external ways to reinvent myself but that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes, I find myself struck hard by the other side of the mirrored glass – the fork in the road like a giant whY in the middle of the room. And yesterday, in the costume shop, surrounded by disguises…

Fable was asleep in her stroller as I perused the walls of masks, costumes and liquid latex, pulling items off the wall, comparing wigs in nets, waving magic wands.

Then I turned a corner and into a new world.

Three young women reached for the various costumes stacked up the wall, stood-on-tiptoes, jumped and knocked them off the shelves, held the various disguises up to their American Apparel clad bodies. They were laughing. They were excited.

“You’ll look so hot in that,” one of them said.

“That with a pair of fishnets would be UH-Mazing.”

“Don’t you wish we could dress like this everyday?”

“Yes, I do!” I said.

The girls turned toward me.

Apparently, I was blogging out loud again. But it was more than that. For a moment I forgot who I was. I’d fallen down the rabbit hole into a parallel universe where I, too, was shopping for my “sexy witch” costume to wear to my friend’s Halloween party. Where I got to hang out with my girlfriends, spend the afternoon costume shopping, nary a wedding ring on my finger or a stroller in my hands. I wanted to look so totally hot in fishnets, too. I wanted to be the sexy witch again.

The moment lasted ten seconds at most and yet for those brief moments, my world fell apart. I was lost and confused, spun out and turned the wrong direction.

“I mean… what? I’m just… excuse me.”

“It’s okay. Cute baby.”

Cute life... I mean… “Thank you.”

I tried not to sound bitter. Resentful of their ability to be whomever they wanted whenever they wanted. Truthfully, I was jealous. I wanted to be there with my friends picking out my amazing costume, too. But where would I wear it? Certainly not trick or treating with my children. Or to Archer's preschool Halloween carnival.

I often wonder where I’d be right now if life went according to the plans I had at eighteen when I moved out of my parent’s house and into my own life. My plans to travel through my twenties, be free of commitment, live alone, host theme parties, excel at independence, shop with my girlfriends for Halloween costumes on early evening Wednesdays.

I’ve never regretted a decision, let alone the decision to devote my twenties to raising children and coloring within the same lines I used to twist and tear, shopping for costumes not my own for Halloween.

My family is my one true love, the thing that matters to me most of all and yet? I still have moments, same as before-- when I find myself with face pressed to the window, envious of the costumes that people wear on Halloween and year round.

Times I want to sit in the smoking section even though I say, “non.”

I took a turn out of the costume aisle and back to the accessories wall. Where I quickly found what I was looking for and fled to the checkout line. Past the girls with their arms full of wigs and the ghosts with flashing lights for eyes.

“You only live once,” people always say but its bullshit. You live a hundred thousand times – in a hundred thousand places with a hundred thousand people passing through, getting caught in the various webs we build out of cotton in our front yards. An infinity of flashing lights for an infinity of choices. Left or right? Up or down? Here? How about there, instead?

“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” the man at the register said as we approached.

“Yes, er... kind of."

Not really.

And then this afternoon, as I was putting away my laundry, I found two pairs of fishnets still in their packaging, leftover from years ago, never worn.

Apparently, I was never the Sexy Witch for Halloween kind of girl. Not even then. Before the husband and the kids.

How could I have forgotten? Did I ever really change?

Time is a magician waiting to saw us all in half so that we might put ourselves back together again.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid the magician is you."

"Maybe so."


Amy W | 1:30 AM

I'm sure you know this.... but you are not the only woman out there who feels like this. The good news is that you can still have those moments of loose abandon, you can still throw those themed parties, and you can still go shopping solo on a late Wednesday afternoon. :) Babies make scheduling it all more difficult and more expensive (if you have to hire sitters) but YOU are still YOU and it sounds like you are pretty fab.

Unknown | 2:08 AM

Oh Lord, it took me ten years to grow into my family. For someone who swore they'd never have kids or get married, I had the first baby at 22, 2nd at 24, 3rd at 30 and 4th at 32. Never enjoyed it til I was 30...then I thought this is actually pretty cool.

No, you never really change, you just forget who you are for a moment or two...

Mammy P | 3:20 AM

Oh, does this post ever speak to me. If I look at my 33 year old life with the eyes of my 20 year old self, she'd be all: "WT-HOLY-GOD-AND-F?!"

Like you, I had dreams of filling up my passport but I met my would-be husband on my first port of call and I now live in England. Which is great... but my life occasionally throws me one of those bittersweet curveballs where I am reminded that at one time, I was having a blast being just 'Girl'... no responsibilities, no limits, no worries. No worries of course, other than, 'What time is that connecting flight?' or 'How much are tickets for that gig?' or 'Where's the corkscrew?' or 'Oops, that was kinda slutty.'

And now here I am with all these plates in the air: Mammy / Wife / Daughter / Friend / Colleague, etc., etc., etc ad infinitum... and sometimes the spinning gets too tricky and regretfully it’s 'Girl' which gets put down. And I’m sad to say that it is a regular struggle to remember where I left her, and to pick her up and dust her off and give her the occasional spin.

Having said that... totally no regrets, either. I have a fab life with a dreamy husband, I love the bones off my two wee lads and things are good.

I take great satisfaction by paying homage to my cool ‘old’ self by refusing to cut my hair short and stomping about the neighbourhood with the pram in my Doc Martens/Chuck Taylors (delete as weather appropriate). I went to see Blur at the end of June a week before my baby was born! I’m still collecting tattoos and wandering around used book stores and record stores.

I’m still (intermittently) the same ol’ Nick – just with baby barf on my shoulder, bags under my eyes and always, ALWAYS a box of snack raisins in my purse for toddler-related-snack-emergencies.

Really, really love this post, Rebecca.

the bellyacher | 3:54 AM

My little baby is 5 months old today and boy do I know what you mean. I look through photos of my former self as the 'cute girl' or 'wacky girl' and think I'm still her until I see myself in the mirror and see 'boring brown-haired mommy girl.' *Sigh* I wouldn't change my situation for the world but it would sure be nice to just ever so briefly revisit one of my former selves...even just for a minute. Thank you for your post. :)

Jillian | 4:00 AM

I've never commented before but this struck a chord with me and so I felt compelled.....
I know EXACTLY what you mean. My Husband went out of town for two days and all I could think about was buying cigarettes and a bottle of wine and how much fun the three of us would have after the kids went to bed. Did I do it? No. Well, the wine yes, but I inky had one glass while watching The Neverending Story with my three year old. Not the same....but better in a way.

Anonymous | 4:30 AM

I know this feeling well. I'm faced with it every time I head back to campus for class. I ache to be who I was while balancing the 'mother of 3' that I am.

Anonymous | 4:38 AM

Your words are GORGEOUS in this post. Every choice we make is both a sense of lost and found. To choose is to give up another option, and to seize hold of another. We may sometimes be wistful of the loss. We may sometimes be joyful at the found. But to live is to chose and to borrow a phrase, time is but a stream we go a-fishing in.

Unknown | 5:08 AM

I'm forever re-inventing the past in my head. Pregnancy was a doddle, labour was a stroll in the park and breastfeeding came naturally. Or at least all these things WILL be true when I have my second baby - or so I like to tell my reluctant husband!

Kerry | 5:18 AM

On my way home from work yesterday I picked up a pizza from the local pizza shop. I pulled into my driveway and turned off the car. When I went to take the pizza out of the back seat I saw my reflection in the car window. In seconds I saw myself at 15 (awkard and unsure); at 22 (a college graduate); 24 (recovering from an awful relationship split); at 26 (single, carefree- this was my BEST life) and now...37 with a husband and 2 kids. Working full-time and driving in rush hour and eating on the run etc. Gah, where did it all go? How did it get by me?

For me, this is the best post you've written. Something about living the past life and trying to live in the present is what holds me up from focusing on the future.

Thank you for sharing this post with us.

Erin | 5:29 AM

I used to get thru my hard times by reminding myself that I could always run away- hop on a plane to NYC and live my life in peace- somehow just remembering that I was not cemented down made everying OK.
Don't need to remind myself of that anymore- when times get tough I remember that at the end of the day I will be on my couch, under our green blanekt w/ popcorn and Go Diego Go and my son and husband on either side of me.

Brooke - Little Miss Moi | 5:38 AM

Dear rebecca. I'm *sort of* having that experience. I've just gone back to work full time after living abroad for 2.5 years, .5 of that time with a baby, and the entire of that time being professionally stifled/frustrated/unable.

Now, at work, I've seemingly slipped seamlessly back into the work me - I finally feel whole again! I sort of forget that I have this whole other life involving t-shirt covered in mashed sweet potato and pasta, and dirty teething nappies at 4am.

In fact, after feeling like I was living in a haze of lethargy for the entire first post-natal year, I am working full time, sleeping less, thinking clearer and feeling wonderfully alive.

I really feel like I'm getting the best of both worlds at the moment. I hope it doesn't come crashing down.

PS Beautiful photo of Fable - I love her hair clip!

beyond | 5:51 AM

lovely post. regrets and love. i think mamas can wear fishnets -even when not part of a costume. as long as your skirt covers your derriere, right?

lamina@do a bit | 5:57 AM

Argghh it's hard hey!!! I think as we move through life, we all experience different worlds! I do miss my old world (like those girls choosing costumes), but I would never change my new "Mum" world for anything! It is the weirdest feeling!

JB | 6:11 AM

I feel this way all the time. Thank you for sharing your feelings. The picture of you and fable is beautiful!!

Bex | 6:29 AM

I think all life is that way. There is always some other life calling to us--the should haves, would haves, and what ifs--and if we're not careful we start to believe we have missed out on something. And if we give in to that belief, then we lose the precious things we do have by turning away from them in our hearts. That is the greatest tragedy. So I look at it. I think about what my life could have been. But then I always circle back to what I would have to give up to go back there--and carefully, purposefully, turn my heart back to what I have.


This was timely for me. Sometimes I think this jealousy (which is more like "nostalgia for other people's lives") keeps me from enjoying where I am and what I have now. But I often have this painful ache of "wanting my life back"--as though there were only one life for me, ever. Oof.

Caitlin | 7:05 AM

this post relates so much to me right now... i know it'll be one i read again and again, like Motherhood of Boys. wanting to be someone you cannot be for whatever reason. your own limitations keep you from it, and sometimes you realize they always did.

Megan | 7:06 AM

Amazing and so true. As usual, fabulous writing, Rebecca. I'm always blown away by how much our stories resemble one another, and how you seem to write what I'm thinking right when I need to hear it. Thank you for sharing.

Anonymous | 7:06 AM

Isn't if odd how we romanticize things?

Who says that had you followed your plans, that it would all be roses?

You may just have been a woman in her late 20's lamenting not having a baby, worrying if you'd ever have a baby. Tired of one disappointing boyfriend after another. Wondering if any one was even out there for you.

We think it would've been all it's cracked up to be, and it's usually not. That's just what we do to ourselves. Thinking that if we had followed our plans, that life would've simply obeyed.

Emma | 7:11 AM

I've been having similar feelings lately, not wanting to run away or change anything, but still, kind of resenting that parts of my life are over and will never come back and not liking that everyone I know now sees me as a sensible and responsible mother above all else.

I had put my melancholy down to turning 40 (40!! it's just not possible I am middle aged!!), but this post makes me realise these changes, these lost possibilities, happen no matter when you settle down with someone/have kids.

And on the other side, I know there are people who'd press their face to my window, envious of all I have...

Sarah @ | 7:28 AM

I have so been there. LITERALLY. It surprised me when I found the fishnets still in their packages too, but I think it also made me feel a little better, like I wasn't missing out after all.

Emma | 7:30 AM

Just to add... a few times I have been away from home (out of the country even), at a party, and actually resented my friends telling other people I had kids, because I didn't want these strangers to see me as a mother. I wasn't looking to flirt or betray my family in any way, but still, I so strongly wanted to be seen only as me... and I also felt disoriented when "sprung". It's a hard role to fit into, this motherhood.

Rachel | 7:39 AM

Beautifully said. So good to know I'm not the only one with these "face pressed up against the window" moments. I LOVE my family more than anything but I'd be lying if I said I didn't sometimes let my mind wander over to a different universe.

Bee | 7:55 AM

Amazing. Thank you for this. As someone who got married at 24 (and who never imagined getting married before 30)I relate so much to you, feeling as if I am right where I am supposed to be, and yet, always imagining so many potential paths.I love that you come out and say it, there is such a knee-jerk reaction against negative feelings or anything that resembles regret in our culture, like, if you feel jealous that must mean "you should not be married or a mother" or whatnot. Which is ridiculous.

I have always thought that having such a rich inner life was a blessing in disguise though, because you don't have to experience everything outside of your own mind to "experience" it, you know? Real life itself quickly turns into memory after it happens, and memory is not that much different than fantasy. Both memory and fantasy can be delightful to taste...but right Now is much more filling.

I have never posted but I enjoy reading. Keep it coming :)

Marie-Ève | 7:59 AM

Fantastic post Rebecca, you did it again...

MommyLisa | 8:36 AM

I went from being a care-free single gal working as a radio dj until I was 32 to a step-mom of two kids in elementary school working in sales when I was 33.

I have many WTH? moments.

Darling I am DYING to see the tats and explanations for them. Could that be a blog?

I have two and have saved a picture of a third I want BADLY. I am being good though and waiting until I am 45 cuz the hubs said I JUST GOT ONE>>> yea dude, two years ago.

Anonymous | 8:54 AM

Damn you! Chills, then tears again.

Anonymous | 8:57 AM


Desiree | 8:57 AM

Haha, I "blog out loud" all the time.
It's like the filter I'm supposed to have is cracked & I wind up making everyone rather uncomfortable -- but to be honest? I LOVE IT!

ps. you guys look fabulous in that photo! What a cute little Fable dress!

Anonymous | 9:57 AM

I could've easily been one of the girls that you ran into in the costume shop. I'm single, childless, in my twenties, and I've got big plans for a Halloween house party in Los Feliz. My secret? When I see young moms my heart aches a little. I love your writing but I read it in secret. Even I am surprised by the longing it enduces. For this single girl, you stand for a truth that might someday be.

Breezy | 10:05 AM

Wow, ditto sister. My hubby is in grad school, so at 30 with an 11 month old, we live in a college town (away from family and friends). EVERYONE is young and hip. Sometimes I forget I'm not, and then I say, "I am so!" I miss the days of dressing in themes with my college friends to go party the night away (we were a pretty hot troupe of Brownie's and a sexy gang of biker chicks). This year, I'm soo excited about my (well, my son's) dragon costume. I joke about "being old". It's so hard to figure out how to be "me" right now. I don't want to spend my time wishing I could have it all (go back in time and be 21 again, but still be able to be 30 with my great hubby and precious baby), I want to spend my time enjoying it all.
I guess I should look at it as, how fortunate I am that I have had such happy times in my life that I would want to relive them. Though I find my life now is much more drama free than my teens and twenties (secret confession: I liked the drama sometimes...).

Jasmine | 10:12 AM

Ha! Tru has been in the recent habit of sitting in the closet as I get dressed in the morning and pulling out all my dust-covered lingerie from the bottom drawer. Apparently, the sluttier the item, the more intriguing it is to play with. Such a taunt! Then yesterday, he pulls out an un-opened pair of fishnets from the Hustler store and, well, you said it best. No regrets... just daydreams. On a side note... do people donate old lingerie to the goodwill? Or just throw it away? I would think the latter, but it feels somehow wasteful. Hmmm?

Amanda | 10:17 AM

Yep. Yes. Si!

Awhile ago my childhood friend said "it's never as great as you imagine it." In that sometimes we romanticize the past too much. That in our constant evolution, should there be time machine to go back and ditch school, have one night stands and stay out until we greeted the sun, we'd probably say "what? THIS is what I thought I was "missing. Meh."

The other night I was helping out at show downtown. During these nights I buy a pack of cigarettes just to feel "free" again, inhale a piece of my youth (god, I'm only 21! We really do live a hundred thousand lives). I saw tons of girls huddled in groups of giggles and heels and over-exposed cleavage. I eyed them as covert as I could. None of them had wedding rings or family at home to kiss the foreheads of when they're all asleep. I bid them a great night and put out my cigarette.

(sorry for hijacking your comments, this just really resonated)

Zaftig Chick | 10:38 AM

I've sooo been there, sooo many times, especially lately! We always crave what's on the other side of the looking glass, right? Even if where we are is perfectly great.

duck | 11:05 AM

Did you crawl into my head? There's more then enough room in here for both of us, but still next time give a girl some warning.
Geeze did that post ever strike home today.

Anonymous | 11:07 AM

these moments have to be part of motherhood i think; accepting things as they are 100% of the time means your life has been fulfilled beyond your dreams...and to me, that's just boring.

i was in the car, driving my twins to a doctor appointment when a song came on my zune; a song i swore my band (my band that never happened) one day would cover.

i left my body for a moment and imagined myself on the guitar, friends in the audience, sipping my beer if this had actually already happened.

then my son kieran spit out his pacifier and started freaking out. i was back to reality, wondering what would have been if i got my shit together and followed one of the many dreams i had set up for myself.

i looked in the rearview mirror and there were my boys, looking out the window, babbling away. and it's not glamorous or really that exciting, but i realized i wouldn't change a thing.

i played the song again after it finished, hearing it in an entirely new way.

Ashley, The Accidental Olympian | 11:49 AM

This realization is the same sort of turmoil I am struggling with since I relocated to a much smaller city after losing my job in March. Although I lack the children in your story, I too find that I no longer belong to the fun, no responsibility group my friends still thrive in.

My life is full of love, and newness, and on average wonderful things, yet all it takes is a call from my best friend living in San Francisco to tear at the fabric of my world. Her stories of parties, concerts, and fabulousness seems to be so far above my life I end our conversations feeling ever so small.

And like you, although those feelings still come, it's amazing that each time the feelings of longing and missing out creep up, they also seem to dissipate a little quicker each time.

Wonderful post. Thank you for sharing so eloquently.

Renae | 8:04 PM

It is so refreshing to hear other people feeling the same way as I do. The other day I was at the grocery store and I ran into someone I went to high school with that I hadn't seen for 10 years. I was without my kids and when we started talking about our lives, I suddenly said, "oh, and I have two kids." It was like at that instant it was like I was still in high school, and we were 17 again and complaining about our government homework. All of this to say, I know what you mean.

Anonymous | 8:40 PM

I do love your writing. I just plain do.

Deidre | 10:49 PM

I don't want you to be alarmed, but I think Fable get's more adorable every day...

Anonymous | 7:33 AM

Oh, jeez, this could be me writing this - you hit the nail on the head again. I am going through so much of this stuff right now, looking at the girls (and boys, too, actually) at work who are out partying on Friday nights, dating, smoking, not hurrying home to make dinner and do dishes and get the kid ready for bed and fall into bed early yet again... I miss that life so much, even though I know that I never really had it - I've always been a home on Friday nights girl. (Though I did used to wear a lot of fishnets!)
Thanks again for voicing what I wanted to say so eloquently. You rock, Rebecca. (BTW, if you're ever in CT, let's go out drinking and smoking and pretend we're not old mommies sometime!) ;)

Amy | 12:33 PM

My story is a little different and yet I totally relate. I waited until 34 to have my first baby. I did all that "glamorous" 20-something stuff. I traveled, went to grad school, lived in the lounges around Hollywood and Silverlake, played being an "artist", got a "real job", dabbled in real estate, got married. Yeah, and so what? I mean, by the time I was thirty my life felt completely empty and devoid of meaning. The only regret I have for motherhood is that I didn't start earlier. If you have kids in your early 20's then you have your 40's to play.

It's funny because if I ever get that twinge of jealousy, it when I see young hipster moms in their cool clothes pushing their kids in stylish strollers to the park. And I think, why did I waste all that time? But I try not to dwell on it too much because I know the truth is that every choice I made led to my daughter and I wouldn't change having her in my life for anything.

Ray | 2:08 PM

"My plans to travel through my twenties, be free of commitment, live alone, host theme parties, excel at independence, shop with my girlfriends for Halloween costumes on early evening Wednesdays."

Yes, that is a lot of our wants in our twenties (and many more). Me, being twenty-two: I also have dreams of traveling all around the world but, life doesn't always go as planned and you don't always get what you want. Maybe I will find ways to travel and maybe I won't. Your twenties are said to be times of "self-discovery." That I believe to be true, but; everyone's life is different. We take different paths as you've written and you don't always come out through the rabbit hole you expected to come out of.

That doesn't mean though that you can't fix your life to add the things you miss just because you have children. I hope you find a balance to have both. Because as a woman, we all deserve to be happy. I'm not saying that you're not, but I believe its okay to want it all, and to have it all.

Take care, Rebecca.

Beautiful post by the way. You always do it up (but of course)! ;o)

Gretchen | 4:47 PM

WOW, you are so eloquent. I love reading your blog.

Rob T | 7:29 PM

Get a babysitter and go to a party! It's only once a year so you can indulge; no need to lament on what was lost.

Angie | 9:51 AM

This post has really spoken to me, more than you probably know. I have been having so many of the same thoughts flashing through my head, specifically with Halloween approaching.

I have found myself envious as well, in costume shops, watching girls younger than me pick out fishnet costumes-sexy witches, nurses, maids-and thinking "That used to be me," but you know what? It never was.

Just one of those "The grass is always greener on the other side" moments, I guess.

Alyxherself | 1:24 PM

I take solace in feeling superior to the women who didn't figure out that THEY ARE TOO OLD FOR THAT LOOK! ahahahahaha. Having fun is one thing, looking as if you are out to lunch on the concept of maturing is quite another.

Karen | 9:25 PM

is a look from the other (male) side.

Jane Hamilton | 3:15 AM

Hi, I agree with Amy... you are certainly the only woman out there who feels like that! I feel like that almost everyday... at 18, I was confident, dressed any which way I liked (comfort came first), I was hep, had loads of friends, did my hair in a cute way, and always laughed!

Now, I daresay, most of those things are missing... I guess I forgot what i was.

But, then, you have all these lovely people in your life, whom you didn't have when you were 18, and...well, somehow, it seems worth it.... to LOVE, and BE LOVED...that's what it all boils down to.
you sound really fun and amazing, by the way.

Nice blog!

Melina ~honeybird | 9:36 AM

great post...I was a go-go dancer before babies...part of me misses the late nights/early mornings, and yes, the uncomfortable gogo boots, especially when I hear a great song. BUT...NOTHING replaces my babies, my family, my life right now...maybe someday I'll go back, but I doubt it. Your babies are BEAUTIFUL BTW and I'm a fan of your blog, glad I found it! Melina AKA ~honeybird

Renee | 12:10 PM

I have days where I long for my prechild life. Where I could just throw on shoes and run out the door in a minute, or drive all night to the beach, or spend the afternoon at a long lunch with friends... Then Moanna does something to crack me up and I remember that I had been waiting me entire life to become a mom

Stacy | 6:01 PM

This is beautiful and oh-so-timely, as this is my son's third Halloween, and as always I'm taking him to our town's Halloween party/trunk-or-treat...but then, for the first time since his birth, I'm dropping him off at my mom's and going out to get my dance and drink on in my "sexy airline pilot" costume (with my husband in an ever so classy "mile high club" t-shirt). Because dammit, I'm 23, and the fact that the world's most adorable 2 1/2 year old calls me "Mommy" doesn't mean I can't occasionally act my age. ;-)

mommymae | 7:30 AM

you look so much like your mama in that picture. beauty.

Shnerfle | 9:59 AM

Sing it, sister.

Honestly, you just floor me. And it's not just that your thoughts echo mine, it's that your writing is everything I aspire to. You're *mumble, mumble* years younger than I, and you're my freakin' hero.

Also, you'd make a great sexy witch.

freckletree | 12:08 PM

i pass the airport on the way to the swanky mall. every time, i think that it would cost less to get on a plane and fly to california than i would spend on shop therapy.

and then i have a revelation.

there is only $17 in my bank account.

and i need more alcohol.

glad to know that this becomes more infrequent with time.

thanks for sharing.

Liliana | 2:58 PM

I have these moments a lot. I get jealous of single young girls. It's sad and seems twisted, because mostly I love my live and my little boy, but somedays...


Monica | 2:28 PM

Another wonderful piece of your writing. The sentiments are so very, very true for me. Thank you.

Kate | 10:04 AM

I missed a few posts and was backreading, and wow. I really f*ing needed to read this. There are days lately when I look at my life and think "what the hell?" How did I get to being 25, a housewife, considering starting a family?? But really, I'm not all that different, the circumstances are.

Unknown | 8:18 AM

I just wanted to say that this post is EXACTLY what I needed to read right now. Your blog, and your life, are truly inspiring, and to know that someone like you, someone who seems to have this all figured out, who seems to have exactly what she wants, could be just like me. Have the same fleeting doubts or moments of wondering. It's comforting.

I'm married, too (no kids yet) and I wonder from time to time what life would be like had I not gotten into a serious relationship with the man who would become my husband when I was 18. What it would've been like to live alone, to travel the country, to live wherever I wanted with no one and nothing to hold me back. But those thoughts are always so quick, so momentarily nostalgic, and then I realize how happy I truly am in my life. How much I can't wait to have children with this man, how I can't wait to make our future house a home and to do all the things we love, together. It's hard to realize that such thoughts are NORMAL and healthy...

So thank you.