I'm supposed to be the teacher...

In my other life, before I had children, nothing woke me from my sleep.The sun could rise and the roosters did crow, but my sleep was undisturbed. One year at summer camp, the girls' cabin was attacked at midnight by marauding teenaged boys from across the campground. They rattled the windows, threw rocks at the doors and howled Indian-raid style. I missed the entire exciting rampage and only heard it secondhand the next morning.But after the baby came, the movement of her tiny body on the crib sheet jolted me instantly from dreamland. I promise I could hear her breathe from 3 rooms away. Once upon a time, I thought it commonplace to eat a full course meal, sitting comfortably in my dining chair. Currently I am resigned to juggling my plate in one hand and balancing baby in the other. At times, I skip the plate and just graze from the leftovers on the children's plates as I clean the table. In my youth, I acted and reacted off the cuff. But today I feel the weight of little eyes upon me and I measure my responses quite carefully. Little ears record every word I speak so they, too, must pass inspection before I allow them to pass my lips.

I used to have a real name in my other lilfe. But in my new identity, introductions are typically preceeded by my children's names. I'm their mom and this is presently the only name that matters.When it came to shopping, my destination was unquestionably the ladies clothing section. But now my internal GPS directs me to the kids department,and from there, I proceed to a tour of the latest clever toys.

In my other life, I barely noticed butterflies and "cute little ladybugs". Now every blade of grass and sunbeam is a source of glorious wonder. I never thought of dying in my previous, carefree existence. But one look at my helpless newborn baby's face and I knew I would instantly sacrifice my life for hers. And I have done so. Not in an easy, once and for all fashion, but daily as I lay down who I was in that selfish other life.