An Anniversary



For our first date, he took me to a fancy Hawaiian fusion restaurant. We sat at the bar and ordered fancy drinks that only adults order; partly because we were both a bit nervous and awkward and partly because we wanted to own the title of adult all 20-somethings yearn to claim. We talked, we laughed, he drove me home afterward – to my parents house, where I was living at the time – you know, when you’re in-between here and there. I had just returned from life on the road with Janet and though my physical belongings sat in the room I grew up in, my spirit still felt fiery and restless. It’s the first time in life I felt complete ownership of and confidence in my self-awareness. It wasn’t lacking before, just still being molded.

He kissed me in the driveway, the oak tree hanging overhead. It sounds cliche to say I knew he was the one, but I knew he was the one. That night was only the beginning.
We have reservations tonight at a nice restaurant on the beach. A treat to one another. We laugh thinking back to that night, to that $100 dinner that was so out-of-form all those years back. And how I confided them the same confession that I confess tonight; that I’d be just as happy going to Denny’s.
Happy Anniversary to my one true love.

I’m Not the Boss

This post is old. If it had hair, it’d be gray. It’s been sitting in my draft folder while I fumbled around with the idea of posting it or keeping it for myself. I don’t care to air out Willy and I’s dirty laundry. The more I’ve thought about it, however, the feelings presented have more to do with motherhood than anything else. In any case, Willy and I have moved on from where we were when I wrote this. I’m sure many of you can relate and that is why I have decided to share this post with you. Here we go…
Both of my parents owned their own business. Because of this, I knew from a young age that I never wanted my own business. That’s because I never want to be boss. I like the idea of clocking in and clocking out and leaving work both figuratively and literally.
What I didn’t realize when I became a mom is that I also became a boss. Becoming a mom is by far my greatest accomplishment. I rarely talk about the downsides of motherhood because truth be told, there aren’t many.
Except that I have become the boss.
I loathe that role.
And it happened by default. I realized it following this conversation the other morning:
Me: “Maybe you could set an alarm to wake up before 10am to help me out on Saturday and Sunday mornings”.
Willy: “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
I’ll save you the details of the hissy fit that followed and say that I answered with, “Because I’m not your boss”. Somehow it’s become my duty as a mom to manage our lives. That’s the role of a boss after all, right?
And by boss I mean I’m the nagger, the organizer, and the sleep deprived over-worked worker. I’m the one that goes to bed at night still thinking about my business.
And by business I mean my household. I run over things that need to be done the next day and how to do them most efficiently. I multi-task, because you know, I’m a mother.
I love my role as mom. I hate my role as boss. Yet it’s my role as mom that gave birth to my role as boss.
I’m sure I’m not the first mom to feel this way. My gut tells me this is all too common. So I turn to ya’ll. I want to hear your thoughts. And advice.