Oh the Places You Will Go

I was walking yesterday with Dax snug against my chest in the sling. We trekked the neighborhood on our way to the UPS store to ship cloth diapers to another crunchy mama on the East Coast. I felt empowered, each step sure and easy. Dax is quiet against me. His little legs dangling; his navy blue sunhat shielding his face from the light Southern California sun.

We zip past the full bushes of begonias. Blotches of hot pink blooms flash against the saturated green leaves. It's quiet. The sound of my feet tapping the pavement soothes him. He's sucking his pacifier. I wonder if I should have insisted he take it. He'd gone four months, why introduce it now? I brush it off. Because. Because he needs me so much. I relish the break.

The other day my mom asked me if I felt alone. With just me and Dax here. My husband working those long days. Yes. I thought. I think I do sometimes. Is being alone a bad thing? Aren't we all? All alone?

I wouldn't have this any other way. I wouldn't change things.

When Dave told me, all those years ago--we were 22 or 23 or something tender like that--he told me that he thought it's great for mothers to stay-at-home & raise their babies. He told me he wanted something like that too. He meant me. To raise our babies. I shot back, "You're with the wrong girl." 

I couldn't imagine a life like that. My identity wrapped up in this little being. I wanted no part of it. I had things to do. Fantastical dreams to wrestle to the ground.

I chased my career in my twenties. Into the ground. It lead me absolutely Nowhere. Disappointed and disheartened. I tried with everything to find What I Was Looking For. And the honest truth is, it wasn't there. The direction I was headed? I simply did not care.

I grew up. I worked anyway. I gave up that Need to Be. It was a relief.

And then it came time. Almost a decade after I scoffed at Dave in the passenger seat of my little pickup, I'm here--in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday with a baby strapped to my chest trekking through our peaceful suburban neighborhood.

I take a breath. Turn the corner and Know

This is exactly where I'm supposed to be.