I had plans for my life. They involved several capital letters after my name and a private practice some place. Those plans, and my heart, were changed with the addition of a marvelous little human. And then another. And who knows how many to come…
But sometimes, especially when my brain is made of sleep-deprived mush, I wonder what that expensive Catholic education was for (apart from meeting Andy, of course) and fantasize and dream about the coulda-shoulda-wouldas.
And then I read this:
To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labours, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, boots, cakes and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can imagine how this can exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute.
Motherhood…I am both pupil and teacher, and I’m learning so much.