All I ever wanted was to be a wife and a mother. Oh, don’t
get me wrong, I wanted a million other things too, but this far and away led
the list. It was so much a part of who I was, even at a young age, that a dear
friend actually gave me a subscription to Brides Magazine for my sixteenth
birthday (true story). Let me tell you that seeing that magazine in my dorm
room (yes, I continued the subscription until the day I was married) scared
quite a few young men along the way! And
let’s not even mention the notebook of every changing baby names that I kept
for years!
I grew up as the youngest of three, and when I was eight
years old, my mom started an in-home day care business called Dot’s Tots.
Without realizing it then, Dot’s Tots definitely helped shape my hopes and
dreams. I would get home from school
every day, and my mom was there to talk with me and to hear about my day, but
there were lots of little people there as well. I always had a baby to hold or
a toddler to play with. I watched these children grow up in my home. As I got
older, I got more involved with the children. These were the kids I’d babysit
for on the weekend, and during the summer I would serve as lifeguard by the
pool, and even started the famous “Dot’s Tots Summer Olympics.” Babies were in
my blood. Trust me, there were days I would have loved to come home to an empty
house or a house with just my mom in it, but most days I loved walking through
the door to see all of those little faces.
I don’t remember thinking about whether or not I’d be a stay
at home mom when I was young. My picture definitely had a husband and kids in
it, but I was raised to believe that I could do or be anything that I wanted in
life. Neither of my parents went to college, and I was the only one in my
family to finish. My parents truly made me feel like anything I strived for was
possible. I guess I believed I could “have it all” even though I didn’t really
know what that looked like, or even meant.
Fast forward to a few years after college… I married
Michael, my college sweetheart. This was, far and away, the best decision of my
entire life. I moved from Massachusetts
to Pennsylvania and began a career in Pharmaceutical Sales. I loved it and I
was very good at it. I was at the top of my class in sales school, and won the
Fast Start Award my first year out. I had aspirations of working in sales
training, but hadn’t quite figured out how that would work since my company’s
home office was in Kansas City, and Michael’s career and our whole life was on
the east coast. I remember briefly feeling like it wasn’t fair that his career
(much more established than mine at that point) took priority. Shouldn’t I get
the chance to go to Kansas City and see what I could do? Boy, I really didn’t worry about this for
long. Instead, I got the baby bug.
Michael and I bought our first home at Christmastime, about a
year and half after we were married. I remember wanting to get pregnant so
badly around that time. I think Michael would have preferred to wait a bit
longer, save a bit more money, etc. We had many teary (on my part)
conversations that involved him saying that we weren’t in a position for me to
be home full-time, and my swearing that I had no problem going back to work
full-time if we could just have a baby (I thought I meant it). I was pregnant
by June.
I loved being pregnant. I loved everything about it. I
couldn’t wait until I could wear maternity clothes, and in hindsight, I really
jumped the gun on that one. But I wanted EVERYONE to know I was pregnant. My
career flourished. My sales territory was the amazing neighborhoods in and
around South Philly, a predominantly Italian area of Philadelphia. Here I was,
this young woman with a very Italian last name and clearly not a drop of
Italian blood in her. I had established great relationships in my doctors’
offices, but the pregnancy took things to a whole new level. I spent months
being turned around to decide if my nose had spread more than my backside, and
sat still while having my wedding ring spun on a string over my giant belly –
all this to decide if I was having a boy or a girl…South Philly style. The
prevailing wisdom said girl…and they were right.
Five days after my due date, in the early morning hours, my
beautiful Katie arrived – and I was never, ever the same. In those very first
moments I knew with a certainty unlike anything I had ever experienced before,
that my life’s work had just begun. I was a mom.
But remember those teary promises about going back to work
full-time if I could just have a baby? …well, it had to happen. The mortgage
loomed. Twelve weeks later, I returned to work. And so began a whole new series
of teary conversations about how and when I could stop working. We got so
lucky, because I know this isn’t the case for so many families. Six months
after I returned to work, I was able to transition to a two day per week
schedule in my sales job.
This two day per week schedule continued for the next few
years, and worked out well for us. I still wanted to be home full-time, and we
were getting close. We welcomed Cole, our beautiful boy, two years later, and
in the fall of 1999, we embarked on the adventure of a lifetime and moved our
family to Denmark.
The three years we spent as guests in this beautiful
country, were three of the best years of my life. We welcomed Abbey seven
months after arriving, and I settled in so fantastically to my role as
full-time stay at home mom. Being home
to kiss every boo-boo, snuggling up to watch The Lion King for the billionth
time, seeing the wonder on those beautiful little faces as they discovered new
things – I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.
I’ve been blessed over the years to have several part-time
jobs that fell in my lap just at the right time, but that left just as
gracefully when they were no longer needed. Some were short-term projects with old
colleagues involving really exciting stuff that let me feel useful and smart in
a different way when maybe I was doubting myself or my value (Wow! That was a
whopper of a run-on sentence!). Others let me make a difference in the lives of
children when my three were happy and busy at school, yet let me be home before
the first feet stepped off the school bus at the end of the day. I know I’ve
been very lucky -- lucky to be at home all of these years, lucky to have a
husband that bent over backwards to make it possible and mostly lucky to have
chosen the absolute right dad for my kids, and most amazing husband for me.
As I’m writing my story, I realize that I want you all to
know every detail, but unless you have nothing else to do today but read this
(ha, you’re most likely moms, which means you have a million other things to do
today), all I really need to share is that I loved it. I loved all of it. Not
every minute of every day of course, because it’s really, really hard work some
times. But in true Denise form, my rose-colored glasses are firmly in place
while I write this, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
To help fill my need
for grown-up interaction and activity and to be as involved with my kids as
possible, I was homeroom mom more times than I can count, I attended every
Halloween, Holiday and End of the Year party that I could, went on the field
trips, etc. As the kids grew and I had more available time, I took on bigger
roles in their schools. I ran the book fair for several years, then switched
gears and handled all of the tickets for the amazing high school theatre
program. My latest endeavor is handling
all of the refreshments for the middle school musical. I love being able to use
my time and talents to support my kids in the things they love and also support
their amazing teachers and schools.
I laugh when I think about my eventual
return to the work force, and how I’ll use my communication skills to convince
my future employer that my volunteer jobs and mom skills garnered over the last
twenty years make me a valuable employee. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to
it, but for now I’m going to savor every minute of my last few years at home.
My baby turned 14 yesterday, and this fall I will have two
kids in college. I kiss fewer boo-boos these days, but I’m still lucky enough
to snuggle up for a movie (or an episode of Say Yes to the Dress – our guilty
pleasure). Some days I feel like my role
is simply that of chief cook and housekeeper. But just when I’m feeling like
I’m not as needed as I used to be, someone needs to talk, or vent, or work
through a problem, and I’m there to listen, or give advice (gingerly), or just
give them a hug.
I struggle with my new place in the world. I sometimes question who I’ll be or what I’ll
do when they are all off being their amazing selves and making their own mark
on the world. But really, I do know who I’ll be. I’ll be their mom, forever and
always, and I can’t think of anything better I could have done.
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