Happy Mother's Day!

~~Happy Mother's Day to all of you great moms out there!  Here's something for you to read and enjoy.  I'm not a mommy yet, but can't wait for that someday to arrive.~~

My Previous Life
By Gayle Sorensen Stringer

In my previous life, before I was reincarnated as a mother of three, I wore
clothes that fit and matched. I wore makeup and curled my hair every day. I
had my eyebrows waxed and my nails done. But no one gave me graham cracker
kisses. No one ever told me how pretty I look in sweats.

In my previous life, I read Time magazine and the newspaper. My repartee
of regular television viewing transcended Arthur and The Magic School Bus, and I
devoured all the bestselling novels. But no one asked me to read The Velveteen
Rabbit at bedtime. No one ever requested The Little Engine that Could.

In my previous life, I had a career and friends who were more than three
feet tall. People asked for my opinions and entrusted me with important
projects and confidential information. I had conversations where not once was
mentioned snacks or potties or play dates. But no one asked me my favorite
color or why the sky is so blue. No one ever wanted me to sing.

In my previous life, I had a life. I frequented aerobics classes,
restaurants and the theater. I hosted parties where the themes had nothing to
do with Star Wars or Winnie-the-Pooh. I shopped for myself and slept late on
weekends. But no one made me Valentine cards. No one ever gave me dandelion
bouquets.

In my previous life, I traveled, and my destinations did not hinge on theme
parks or swimming pools or nap schedules. The Mayan ruins of the Yucatan,
snorkeling in the Caribbean, museum hopping in Italy, Kabuki Theater in Japan .
. . these were my playgrounds. I was the queen of the road and my destiny. But
no one asked me to push the swing higher. No one ever invited me to splash in
puddles or roll in the snow.

In my previous life, I held my emotions in check. I did not stomp my feet
or grit my teeth. I could not easily be diminished to tears or tirades. I
considered my demeanor as laid-back and easygoing. But, no one made me care
enough to cry. No one ever just loved me, anyway.

In my previous life, I was free. I could carve my own path and follow my
dreams. Nothing stood in my way. But the path was unsure and the vision
blurred. No one ever gave me purpose enough to soar. Now, I endlessly
rearrange piles of laundry, crumbs and toys. I am pulled and tugged, hassled
and harassed, stepped on and sat upon, and desperate for some solitude. I am
jean-clad and juice-stained, bleary-eyed and graying, underpaid and overwhelmed.
And, sometimes I wonder who I am and what I've become. Then, one of my children
shouts, "Mommy, I need you!" and it is perfectly clear.
I am the center of the Universe. I am MOM.