Monday, February 1, 2010


I got to thinking last night about something a little strange. Maybe it was the beverage prepared by my husband....I do tend towards the philosophical a bit more when I've had something to drink. I was thinking about my life. Our life. And suddenly that song popped into my head. How did I get here?

Most days, I am wholly aware of my role as wife and mother, of the responsibilities of being responsible for other people. Of the day to day things. Chores. Lists. Meals. The things that I have to do, because there is no one here to take care of me anymore and do them. I'm the mom now. And if I don't buy toilet paper, no one will.

But then there are the other days, the nights like last. When I feel a bit like a kid playing house. When it seems impossible for me to be here. How did I get here? Slightly detached from the reality of my life, feeling as though I am doing something naughty by pretending that this is all mine.

The wondering isn't a bad thing. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Kids want to play house because they think it will be fun. Usually, it is. And I hope that a part of me will always feel like a kid pretending to be a grown up.

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