A chip on the ol' shoulder

I think it's official. I have a chip on my shoulder. It's about.... 4-5 years in the making, and I'd like to put it to bed.

This isn't something I would typically blog about. I keep this blog mainly for pictures and what we're up to as a family, what Miles is up to, things we think are funny, etc. I don't consider my blog a place to record the more personal side of my heart and mind-- I have a written journal for that. However, I'm choosing to write here because I feel like this is a place that I am totally myself. And when I say "myself" I mean me minus psycho flip outs, frustrating moments beyond my walmart shopping experiences, frustrating moments in my marriage, etc. So, only leaving out, like, half of my life, right? Ha. Like I say, I don't want it to be too personal here on the world wide web. But I am myself on this blog. I write with my voice 100%. No introduction to this time of my life is necessary, my humor and sarcasm are well established. So the bad lot falls to you, reader.

Over the years since I married Dave, I've heard on numerous occasions, "You've changed." Every time, it's kind of like a blow to my stomach. What? I've changed? Apparently, I'm not the same light-hearted, happy go lucky, hilariously funny, social girl I once was.

Here are a few fun (or not so fun) facts about me:

1. I don't think I take criticism all that well. It sucks. Kind of like, "Hey, that's great that I've been sucking it up... I can totally deal with that like Dave can run 12 miles out of nowhere when he's out of shape. Doesn't affect me at all. So, thanks for the criticism. Can I get you a doughnut?" Yeah, call me sensitive.

2. I'm kind of (maybe a lot? Ask Dave.) needy when it comes to some positive reinforcement or a nice compliment. I really want to feel like I'm doing a fantastic job, and I want the people I care about to see that in me. So, basically the opposite of number 1.

3. I can get annoyed/bugged/upset in about 2.2 seconds. Having an extremely easy, mellow and well behaved child has taught me that I am really lacking in the patience department.

I think those three things about sum up why I feel like I just got sucker punched when people tell me I'm not the same person I used to be. Obviously they liked me a whole lot at one point, and they miss that person. So, I hear: 1. a criticism; 2. not a compliment; and 3. it bugs/upsets me.

Usually these comments come when I'm being funny and laid back and relaxed-- just what they've been missing. I might hear, "You're almost like your old self."

It's pretty much unanimous, though: I've changed.

Every time this happens, I sit in my bafflement and ask Dave, "How? How have I changed? What changed me?" and so on and so on. I'm sure it's his all time favorite conversation. Anyway, I gave it a good thinking tonight, and this is what I came up with:

Duh. Yep, I changed. My entire life changed and I changed with it. I went from being a 19 year old with absolutely zero responsibilities. No job, no bills... just college life-- rough. No wonder I was so light hearted and worry free. That was back in the day when life was so suspenseful and like the beginning of a "Wipeout" run. How bad was I going to eat it on the big balls? Could I make it across without falling? And, I was extremely confident. I was so happy and comfortable in my own skin. Growing up and especially in my angel teen years, adults loved me and I got a lot of praise from them and my parents (no doubt where my need for a compliment addiction started). I'd traveled and experienced amazing things AND my poop smelled like roses. Then, I met this guy, dated him for 1 second, married him, and all of a sudden had a lot more responsibility, a lot less traveling, and A LOT less money. All at once, I had to learn how to be a wife, how to be poor, think about what the heck to make for dinner, get a job with my resume of one job working in my dad's dental office and so on. And as the years have rolled on, I've taken on more responsibility with motherhood.

In a lot of ways I'm glad I changed. I needed to change. I needed to learn and understand the value of money. I needed to get to a place where I could support us while Dave did his undergrad, which I did with flying colors and a mostly bad attitude (I'm such a gem). I needed to learn how to try to be the best mom I can. I need to be the best wife I can-- everyday for the next 100 bazillion years. It's a bummer that I may seem to have lost some of my more amiable attributes, but they are still there. Actually, the whole social thing is not there-- it's been obliterated-- but I feel like the same person I've always been. However, I put my responsibilities in life one hundred million miles over pleasing a crowd. So the crowd misses the old me. But it's feeling good to tuck this in for the night, blankets in place, lights out.

I'm never going to be 19 again. My crowd should stop missing the 19 year old me. Those days are long gone. I am who I am. I can be better in an infinite number of ways, and I think I would feel less out of breath if people would say, "You should try to do better at knitting and crocheting" because, hello, I can't do either of those. But still, I'd rather learn a whole new skill or two than feel like my whole person has gone wrong.

I'm beyond happy with my life. Being a wife and mother are more than I could ever ask for. I'm totally OK with the fact that I've changed, because I feel like I've done it for a cause. All I want to do from here on out is be the best mother and the best wife I can and keep on changing for the better. Maybe some of my MIA qualities that the crowd thinks have vanished (again sociability has indeed vanished) will make their way front and center again during the process. And I figure, once I close the door on my chipped shoulder sleeping soundly in its bed with the lights off, I'll be better able to make whatever changes my family needs.

Night night shoulder. I'm happy with my life. I'm sorry you don't get to see me at my funniest and most carefree and talkative moments, but I have more important things to take care of than your funny bone. Peace.

P.S. I hope no one in the crowd is offended. We can just carry on as normal-- this was all for me. Thank you, and good night.