I’m going to be honest for a second about this house-wifey world I’m living in lately: It can be tiresome. So that statement is like the complete opposite of a shocker. The whole cleaning/food-making/kid-rearing thing aside, it’s mostly the identity shifts that wear me out after a while. One minute you’re a young and single professional honing your beer palate. Next thing you know you’re driving a Land Cruiser through sub-Saharan Africa. That bit actually goes on a for a while. Then suddenly you’re back where people look and sound like you…but with a husband (who doesn’t exactly sound like you). And then there’s a baby, and yet another role is born.
So, so far we have: young partying professional, young international (occasionally partying) professional, young-ish wife, prego-reestablishing professional, MOTHER.
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