It's just me. Again.

There are moments I think, will this ever end? Do you have a toddler too? In the same draining sigh there are shadows of it already has . The toys, the books, the loads of laundry still unfolded in wicker baskets: her room only stays organized while she sleeps. Questions are repeated hourly. Why did you just pull that off the shelf? Where are your pants? Didn't you just eat 3 snacks? But her laughter. Oh, the laughter. And she pushes until she gets mine. I am confused. Stop being 3 for a minute! Don't ever stop being 3. This child brings life. Brings me out of my own darkness. I am forced to look at mess differently. The shoes, her spaghetti stained cheeks, fresh marker on table legs. Please STOP being 3! Then I hold her. Legs dangling near my knees. Not much longer, I think. She'll be standing and we will meet eye to eye. Don't EVER stop being 3! I am a walking contradiction. And I think she knows.

I spent the first 30 years of my life trying to claim my independence. Now I want to give it back. Perhaps if I were still single, childless, I'd still be trying to make a statement with my "hear me roar!" mentality. Now I'm just hoping you'll hear me whimper. And come running. Did this happen to you? Unfortunately I missed out on a lot of great relationships with people during my 20's because I was so busy living life on my own. For my own. Much like the boy who cried wolf, I cried "Let me do it myself!" and now that I actually need a multitude of people (a "village" if you will!) they're all busy and I have to do this on my own. But wait! What's that you say? I'm not alone? You feel the same way? You're in your house cleaning laundry and dishes and floors just like me? Well, thank God for Skype, then ... we can be together while we're shouldering this thing called mom and wife and employee and ... human...

Anyone can cut hair. Trust me. At the age of 2 my mother dressed me up in my Easter finest, pulled my silky blond hair up into the cutest little pig tails and went to the baby room to gather a few more things for the diaper bag. We had an important appointment that day. Upon returning to the bathroom she found me standing proudly in front of the mirror - admiring my new, much shorter, hairdo.  She should have known better than to leave an eager child near a pair of scissors. Two silky blond pig tails lay helpless on the floor. Cut off at the hair-tie. So much for our family portrait. Thankfully I have learned to leave my hair in the hands of skilled stylists. Recently I made an appointment with one of the best in Cleveland County. When I moved here in 2004 I discovered that you had to know someone who knows someone to get a job. I later realized that you also have to know someone who knows someone to find the gems and treasures you're looking for in this city. It took me ...