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Dear Darla, I Hate Your Stinkin’ Guts

This is the kind of post that makes me want to break out an old school typewriter. There’s fury in my fingertips and I want to feel the satisfaction of the keys clicking with each letter I put down.

Have you ever had a moment where you see something and a thought just clicks? In Oprah terms, it’s an “ah-ha moment“. I went for a run on Sunday around Lake Calhoun, a typical 3 mile run for me at 4:30 pm. It was a gorgeous sunny and warm day for the month of October in Minnesota. Not far up ahead I see a little girl riding her bike. She is maybe 4 or 5 years old, smiling with the wind blowing in her long blonde hair, proudly peddling wither her baby doll sitting in a carrier on the front of her handle bars. I look down at the baby doll and then up at the little girl and think “how cute!” She and her baby are out on a bike ride together; life is good.

Ah-ha moment, people! The thoughts start flooding in. I am half way around the lake and in desperate need of a pen and paper. I keep running and the thoughts keep flowing. I don’t even realize that the song blaring in my Bose headphones has now been silenced by my own thoughts. It’s amazing how one minute I can be bouncing along to the Biebs and the next I am emotional as hell about life! Ugh, females, right?!

“They” (you know, those people) say that doing something you’re afraid to do is a good thing. It means you’re growing and challenging yourself; pushing your boundaries.

Well, I’m definitely pushing the boundaries on this one friends.

This post may comfort some and piss off others. It may leave you feeling that you’ve got something to say and have been too afraid to say it. Well, F&*% it! I’m over being afraid and so should you. I think this is a normal thing that happens to us in our thirties. We just stop giving a f&*% about certain things. Am I right? Or am I right?

This is my version of a “Dear Diary post”, if you didn’t already catch that from the title. Thoughts I would typically write in a journal and keep quietly to myself but decided I am insane enough to share them with you today.

As women, we are all natural born caretakers. We are not all natural born mothers. Some of us have no desire to ever be mothers and that is a respectable but likely not, easy decision. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never really known how to act around kids. How do I relate to them and “get down on their level?” My sister is a natural at this. As a nanny to 3 boys, she had to get pretty creative. “Dive in!” She taught one boy to pretend to dive into the ocean to make a game out of something as simple as putting his shirt on. She told his younger brother after getting upset one day,”you get one good cry and then you’re done, that’s it!” Give it a good hard cry and move on. Sounds like good advice to me!

I hated babysitting as a teenager. All I needed was one incident of a baby who was fed an entire can of green beans in a house of no soap (literally, it was like I was on MTV’s Pranked) in the middle of snow storm and I thought I might not make it through the night alive. Babysitting? I’d rather mow lawns for money, thank you!

Fast forward to my adult years and the babies are in full force. It’s the age that I’m at and it’s so exciting to see these adorable little babies grow up to look like their awesome mommies and daddies that I know and love. I saw this very same picture for myself in the near future. At the time it was not exactly because I wanted a baby but because I wanted to share a new kind of love with my best friend and the love of my life. Meanwhile, I’d step 5 feet into Target and watch a child in full-on melt down and think “Oh God, I can’t handle that!

I know, I know. “They’re different when they’re you’re own.” That’s what everyone tells me.

To make a short story very long, the point I want to make is that from the day we, as little girls are old enough to understand what a baby is and what it means to us, we are instilled with an image that we will grow up and be mommies. We play house in our Fisher Price kitchenettes and serve tea in dainty little cups to our dolls and stuffed animals. We push them in strollers and put them in carrying cases on the front of our bikes. Some of these babies even eat, cry and poop. Did I just date myself? Baby Alive, anyone? No WONDER by the time we are of “modern day” child bearing age, we feel pressure to be a Mom! I don’t know if I was ready, am ready or ever will be ready. I am sure all of you reading this can attest to that same feeling! And yet, I still feel let down and left out of a very special part of life.

Remember that 7th grade class, Sex Ed? Where they teach you that it takes TWO people to make a baby. Yep, it’s true. And when you’re single, you realize the harsh reality that this may never happen for you. It may, but it may not! I’m a realist people, get used to it.

I’ve never been a profoundly religious person but do pray, especially when I don’t know what else to do. Newsflash, I’ve been prayin’ a whole hell of a lot these last two years and I have to believe (for my own sanity) that God said “Mmm MM! No. You are not ready for this. And that man over there? He isn’t sure about anything right now. Nope, not gonna happen Ana.”

Through rivers of cried tears, hours of talking to my beautiful mom and countless hours of sitting in silence, I’ve tried to find myself again. The person that was confident. The one that was fun to hang out with. The one that saw her whole life ahead of her with a partner she believed in. A partner she wanted to grow old with and maybe, just maybe have a family with someday.

I will be 32 in January and I’ve accepted the fact that I wont be a mommy tomorrow, and that’s okay. But sometimes, societal and social media pressures are enough to push me off of a ledge. Being reminded everyday that I can’t participate in a “Spouse Challenge” on Facebook. Or that I don’t get to share pictures of a growing baby bump online.

Don’t get me wrong. I am very blessed even without these things and I think pretty damn strong too! But there are times where have to remind myself, Ana! Do NOT mistake yourself for some sad, lonely lady with crazy hair and 100 cats watching a repeat of the same 5 second clip over and over while eating an entire container of cake frosting at home just because you don’t have a husband or a baby. Name that movie. Okay I’ll give it to you this time; Death Becomes Her. Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn. The ’80’s at it’s finest.

Now, I could pull some independent woman bullsh*t on you but there is no Beyonce livin’ up in this 606 sq. ft. apartment. I do take care of myself and at times, it feels pretty damn good.

However, I will be singin’ “Upgrade Ya” the whole way into my new place; a whopping 933 sq ft. We’s movin’ on up Finn!

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I started this blog, a YouTube channel (more to come on where I’m at with that later) and am working on starting my own little business. Maybe, the match that was lit inside tonight while writing this blog, will keep burning and inspire me to push past a few more of my fears. Or, maybe it was just the red wine.

I’ve got a long way to go and A LOT left to prove to myself but nothing worth a damn happens over night.

Please do not take any part of this post personally if you disagree with my feelings. These are my feelings put down on (virtual) paper. Feelings that have come from confusion and comfort, anger and peace.

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Today, I am “Mama” to Honey Bear and Finn, my dogs. I am beyond lucky to have them in my life and I thank God for them every day. I’m learning how to put me first today (a very, very hard thing for me to do) and to have faith in God’s timing of tomorrow. I’ll soak in the peace and quiet and the 20 minutes of uninterrupted perusing in the beauty aisles of Target. And, I’ll sleep in until whenever I damn-well feel like it. Now, making sure that I appreciate all of these things is something of a constant reminder to myself. But don’t think that I wouldn’t trade it all in a heartbeat for something much greater.

I hope that the little girl I saw on the bike grows up in a life without heartache, confusion or jealousy. Sadly, we all know that isn’t reality; but the hardest parts of our lives are what teach us the most. I hope that she lives a life that is meaningful to her, unimpressed by the pressures of society and instead allows God to lead her, the pursuit of her passions to fuel her and the seasons of change within her heart and soul keep her moving through life.

Until next time…

Love,

Alfalfa

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