Separating

There comes a time in a baby's development when she begins to realize she's not truly just part of her mother but that she's an independent person, that she is her own entity.

I'm beginning to feel like this.

For the last twenty years, I've been a mother before everything else. In the very beginning of motherhood, I was a working outside-of-the-home mom.  I juggled a career as an editor and had a young daughter, before Internet, before email...dragging large manuscripts between my work and home in a sturdy bag, working from home some days, in the office on others.  It became clear to me when I was pregnant with my younger daughter that I wouldn't be able to do both, at least for a while. My husband and I weren't sure if we would be able to afford life on one salary but we decided the wear and tear on my was too much...almost exactly seventeen years ago, I quit my job.  We decided we would re evaluate after a year. . .

Year turned into year turned into year and I became a dedicated stay-at-home mother. Most everything I've done, even though I'm also a writer and a friend and like to go to movies and out for dinner, to discuss politics and social issues, and to read, has been about my daughters. I was active in their elementary school activities.  Then we transitioned into the tough teen years, with me being available for every time they needed to talk, or to think out loud, to drive them to activities, to advise them on classes, to pick them and their friends up, and then teaching them to drive themselves....and now, it's almost over.

Yesterday I took a day to be not-a-mom.  An author friend and I went into the city to a book launch, where people we knew were celebrating the publication of their book.  We had lunch,we walked around, we met people we had only social media-ed with. Of course I thought about my kids, but my pressing thoughts were not about where to be to pick one up or how to help one through a crisis or school or...anything, but writing and reading and books. I felt like an entirely different person.

My older daughter is home for college for the summer; the younger is going into her Junior year of high school.  In just a couple of short years, daughter number 1 will be launched, fully, and daughter number 2 will separate herself to college.  I'll still be their mom, but I won't be the appendage I am now.  But I'll be a person.  And a writer. And someone I may, some days, not recognize.