Someone else’s life

by Ginger on March 1, 2011

in Random

I’m sitting in my living room: TV on, LazyBoy rocking, netbook on my lap as I flip between research for work and blog stuff for me. To my left is a precariously perched cat, who glares at me a little when I rock too hard. To my right is the baby monitor, tuned just loud enough that I can hear the quiet middle of the night moaning of Jackson as he flits between sleep stages. Sprawled on the floor in front of me are toys strewn about in the last gasps of a toddler tornado pre-bedtime. I didn’t feel the need to pick them up tonight. Maybe tomorrow…but maybe not.


Sometimes this life feels like it’s not mine. I always wanted a family, always saw myself with kids. I always thought I’d be a working woman. And yet, I’m not sure I knew what that life really meant, what it felt like. And so now that I’m living it, there are days when it feels completely foreign to me. I mean, not that I was really out there living it up in my pre-baby days, or that my house was spotless before the avalanche of kid stuff showed up, or that my career path was leading anywhere but here, but there are times that it just feels like I’ve been dropped into someone else’s life.

And then there are the days when I can’t even imagine another life. Days when I can barely remember the glimmer of a life without a kid, or before that, without a husband, or before that, without a job, or before that. I know it existed–that I existed–that way, but those memories almost seem like someone else’s life at times.

I sometimes wonder when it’ll feel normal, and I sometimes wonder when I thought anything else was normal. But then, I guess that’s just life. Even if sometimes it feels like someone else’s life.

Elizabeth March 2, 2011 at 10:21 am

I know we’re only 7 weeks in, but it all still feels so surreal. She’ll be strapped into her K’tan, and I’ll look down and be shocked to see her staring at me. I love it, and I hope those moments never stop.

kate March 2, 2011 at 11:13 am

I remember the first week/days that we had Beckett home and I felt like babysitter, not a momma. I felt like someone had dropped this little one off and we were watching her for a while. The “momma hat” has started to fit a bit better with time and through all the sleepness nights, joyful steps and transitions and wonderous moments it’s clear that we are not the sitters. We are 2.5 years in and I am still in awe of this whole “being a mother thing”. It’s like I’m living someone else’s life…

Comments on this entry are closed.

Previous post:

Next post: