I spend a lot of time in Marshalls. And TJ’s- Maxx. And Joe’s. If you asked me what my hobbies include, I might tell you browsing the aisles of Homegoods with no intention of buying anything at all. I spend so much time in these stores that I miss the sample girl at Costco that is now out on maternity leave.
As I waited on line to check out at TJ’s, Maxx to be clear, I perused my favorite part of the whole store, the chachkies. I wind up smelling several candles, develop a mild headache, debate whether or not I need gummy bears that look expired, and admiring the shirt that someone abandoned by the mugs.
There it was. A book that spoke to my new mom soul, “52 Lists for Happiness.” So, you’re telling me that it is a book comprised of making lists? And it will bring me happiness? Hobby #2, making lists. Did I screenshot the table of contents so I could replicate the book on my own despite the fact that the book clearly states that you cannot replicate it’s contents? Yes. Hobby #3,
breaking rules in books. Saving money. But then the logical side of me decided to splurge and take my new/cheaper version of therapy home for a test drive. My plan: write one list per day and use it as some sort of daily nightcap. Hobby #4, find a hobby so my husband can stop one-upping me with all of his hobbies. We get it. You know how to cook and play guitar. You win: cooking me dinner.
For legal reasons, I won’t tell you what list 1 and list 2 asked me to fill in, but let’s just say that in five minutes I jumped to list 4 in complete frustration that I had nothing to write. With that, I begrudgingly came to create my own list:
Who am I?
And that is a fantastic and consuming element of my life. But then what? Who am I?
A panic sets into my chest when I realize that the only thing I have to talk about lately is my daughter. How she isn’t much of a pooper. She hates naps and doesn’t sleep well. She loves to babble and she makes my heart melt when she calls me dadadadada.
Moreover, people seem to only ask me questions about parenthood.
How does she sleep at night? How does she do with foods? Where is she going to go when you’re back to work? You must be sad? No Janet, I actually can’t wait to drop her off with complete strangers so that I can hang out with other peoples kids all day.
And though the questions are well-intentioned, somewhere along the way I have lost myself while my husband has gained a coaching job and the ability to sous vide a steak to perfection.
I dedicate this blog to all of the individuals that are proud parents. Mamas and papas that can talk for hours about their child’s bowel movements while simultaneously feeling guilty to admit that they miss the piece of themselves that they misplaced somewhere along the way on this adventure called parenthood. People that want to find out who they are again.
Welcome to my journey.