Remember John Edward the "Crossing Over" TV psychic? He can communicate with people on the other side.
I’m seeing an A, rhymes with Stan. Did you have a brother or sister figure that crossed over? I’m seeing someone on your same level, to your right--that means sibling or a tea party activist. No? Does your name start with a vowel? UuuOOOhhAhhh-- Ann? Yes Ann! But this is a different Ann who no longer exists. I see a woman trailing breast pads in her wake, dropping cookie crumbs on the head of her three-month-sized newborn. She has enormous bazooms and wears a stuffed cushion around her waist named “Boppy...”
That was “young mom” Ann in 2006. I had a two-year-old and a 10 lb newborn that breast-fed every 1 ½ hours. I ate Christmas cookies constantly that Hanukkah, and still lost 22 lbs in two weeks. And that was just the right boob.
In my early 20s when I auditioned for tv commercials and print ads, “young mom” called for a perky 23-year-old with bobbed-hair, wearing khaki pants and a blue button-down. In hindsight, khaki and blue defined the late 90s—the very same outfit made up the Blockbuster Video employee uniform, and clothed most of corporate Chicago for casual Friday.
Just to avoid any confusion, the young mom I’m referring to involves a real woman with at least one real infant, wearing jeans, a nursing bra, and a t-shirt--the one she fell asleep in last night—over her head and half her chest. Rather than bouncy Prell hair, this young mom sports unintentional dreadlocks.
"Young mom," no children
Mom, children
I'm crossing over.
I’m crossing over from the catatonia of young motherhood. I now bid young mom Ann a high-five and goodbye. Of course parenting still exhausts me, but I also feel this inertia.
For the first time since becoming a mother I feel driven by passions other than motherhood. I want a career again. I want an income. Once rapt by a 50-minute monologue of who cried (both of you), who ate and how much (the baby refused, you can’t stop), and who pooped when (and how much is normal), I prefer the 2-minute audition version.
I am changing, and I am starting not to feel guilty about it. I am also starting not to feel totally incoherent all the time. Let those last two sentences serve as shining examples.
Today I want to talk about writing. I want to talk about reaching goals, building careers, and pursuing dreams. I want to contribute to a community beyond my living room. While the playground served as my social scene for a few years, now it looks more like a bunch of small people and motion sickness. I’m still love chatting with a friend, but finding an empty bench in the shade with my notebook? BUENO.
Young mom Ann crossed over from stay-at-home-mom to stay-at-home-humorist. And now I want to get paid. And write a book. And write a column. And grow my show. And love my family. All.
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