In Stitches

It was upon my 72nd hour of Vegas-ity that I was heartily encouraged to channel my inner Carrie Bradshaw and adopt a column divulging the woes of self division as woman & mommy. As I sat in my seat of leather clad delirium on my flight home, I reflected as best I could on the past three days—the freedom and the inability to perform at the fast partying pace that I once could.

I laughed as I realized, the last time I pulled an all nighter I was not in heels and I was not the one drinking from the bottle. Oh how times have changed. Once born to perform on little sleep and watered down Vodka, I now faced the reality that I was other... and I was old.

It could have been the five seconds of podium dancing or the moment a younger woman head butted me in a club (my certainty is wavering) but there were definite moments I felt like I no longer belonged anywhere. I certainly did not belong in the venues that had bulky, muscle-milk drinking bouncers and at times, I still feel foreign in my baby bouncer one.

So here I am, recapping all the ways in which mothering has both challenged and bettered me. I sit and relive the moments I complained too much about the responsibility it holds, the burden it can feel to be, and appreciate the laughs that the realities of my life evoked. Perhaps the birth of something new is about to begin—one that won’t tear me apart but will definitely leave me in stitches (whether it’s from laugher or the growing pains—we shall see.) Welcome to my reality as Woman & Mommy--today just happens to be a day that I wouldn't trade it for a shot and a hangover.