Married Without Children

From the moment you bring your baby home from the hospital, you realize that your life has changed. You can no longer have a spur of the moment date (unless your parents are feeling particularly benevolent), you can no longer sleep whenever or however long you might want to, and you can't take a vacation from September through May. In short, you can no longer be the center of your own universe. Then, one day, far off in the future, you have a chance to reclaim your life. You realize that no one is going to pull you out of bed to make pancakes (my husband learned long ago not to try that one again), there are no back to school supplies to purchase, and you can eat a cupcake at four in the afternoon without having to share. I've discovered that these are all very good things.

This weekend, my husband and I spontaneously headed to a ten a.m. showing of a romantic comedy at our local movie theater, followed by an alfresco lunch (okay, it was Culvers but still), and an afternoon of returning hastily purchased items to their original owners. We also took advantage of last minute (free) tickets to Wrigley Field and still managed to put in an appearance at a college graduation party on our way home. When our kids were little, there were months I didn't spend as much time with my husband as I did in these past two days.

There are still times, when I see an adorable toddler in the mall or when I walk past my credenza filled with framed images of my own two sweet babies, I miss the past. Then, there are days like the last two when I see the possibilities still ahead of me. The end of full-time motherhood has given me a chance to discover new interests (buon giorno italiano), embrace new challenges (still working on that novel), and rediscover relationships that all too often took a back seat to the demands of parenthood.

I'm not naive. I know I'll be mourning the loss of my full-time job for awhile. But, even though a pretty big door has closed, I have to say, I'm starting to enjoy the view out the window.