OhGAWD-- That's ME?!

My biggest fear about growing old was growing boring. As I watched my parents age, it seemed to me they never did ANYTHING. I mean, they went to school events and drove us places. They went to church. But they never actually DID anything, you know, FUN. And from my 13-year old perspective, it seemed like all the married couples I knew—like my parents friends who came over most Saturday nights for dinner—were exactly like my folks. They, too, eventually entered this great long boring phase, comprised solely of raising a family.

It felt like my parents had given up on life. Like suddenly, they didn’t care about the world, but rather, had become more content simply existing in it. They were always tired, always busy with horrible things like work and cleaning and my siblings. They didn’t do anything. They were just married. Therein lied the excitement of life: Wake, shuttle, work, home, clean, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Upon recognizing this pattern, my 13-year old self decided I would be different. I decided would not be like my parents—not in that way. There had to be more to life. I could be famous! I could live in foreign lands! I could DO ANYTHING!

Fast forward 25 years—to a time when I can actually reference my past in epoch-like chunks, aka, NOW.

My life does not revolve around my kids. It IS my kids. Lots and lots of kids. Whether driving kids, or attending functions for kids, or worrying over kids, or helping kids fall back to sleep or making food for kids or cleaning up after kids or shuttling kids from place to place… In general: Kids.

My life is also my partner, whom I am grateful to spend quality time with between the hours of 10:30 p.m. and 5:45 a.m. Time which sometimes includes conversation; usually about 5 minutes of reading; and generally 7 hours of near-constantly interrupted sleep (see previous paragraph).

My life is also work. Like most people, I work for money, which pays for living expenses. Living expenses, you know, like water and food and a place to live and gas and clothing, and more food. For kids.

I sometimes lay wake and examine our life, and I wonder how I missed the left at Albuquerque.

I didn’t understand that all the boring that I saw in my parents’ world was the gap created by what my parents had given up for me. They gave up on the FUN things and became dull because they were good parents.

I was late in this realization-- it came in labor, actually, mid-push-- that when you have kids, you are no longer the center of your universe. You simply cannot be your primary focus AND still be an engaged parent.

Because part of being an engaged parent means shuttling kids around. And worrying. And working so they have food and clothes. And cleaning and cooking so they grow and are fed and yadda yadda yadda.

And even though I do all these boring, boring, ungawdly boring things, I realize didn’t end up like my folks after all.

See, all those other married couples I knew? They were my parents’ friends. Yeah—my parents had FRIENDS. People that came over for dinner, or that went on family vacations with us. People they laughed with and with whom they enjoyed conversations—ACTUAL grown-up conversations.

When was the last time my partner-in-crime and I had anyone over for dinner?

When was the last time we were social outside our little family unit?

*crickets*

Our kids may be the sun in our world, but even the Earth needs the moon to function effectively.
Clearly, I need to start acting like my parents’ type-of boring.