I used to be a professional.


A professional what?

It doesn't matter.

A professional.


The point is that I'm no longer professional in any sense of the word.

I ran into my old boss randomly today.

At first I was apprehensive.  I didn't want to interrupt his work.  I didn't want to be a bother to him and his professional colleagues.

I was wearing a tank top and casual gauchos (as opposed to my dressy gauchos).

I felt under-dressed and inappropriate and inferior and not professional.

I felt like a stay-at-home mom.

(Sidenote:  have you ever tried to update your resume when you've spent the last three years as a stay-at-home mom?  Yah, good luck with that!)

This random run-in and a rough evening of parenting has left me longing for my past.


My friend Lisa-Jo says that becoming a mother is like breaking up with yourself.

I think I've only recently really begun to grasp the deep deep truth behind that statement.

I wasn't ready to break up with my old self.

I'm missing my past tonight.

The title I had.
The respect.
My wardrobe.

The fact that I was somebody besides mother of Catherine, wife of Josh.
The fact that I was known for my own accomplishments and successes.
The fact that I worked hard and had tangible things to show for it.


Motherhood is hard.  I failed at it tonight.

I told Catherine I'm never buying her a dress again.
Ya know, because she has about 30 and refuses to wear them.
(Update:  I've already broken this promise.)

I worked hard at my desk job, and I was good at it.


Motherhood is hard.