One of the themes of my blog is the difficulty I've had transitioning to my new life. While I adore my daughter, I still have moments when I wonder how it all went off the rails, so to speak. It's not that I miss my old life - I don't - I just have so many times where I wonder how my personality changed so radically. I saw that girl the other day - pack of Camels in one back pocket, wallet in the other, engrossed in music. Where did I see her? She was watching
History of the Eagles on Showtime. Now, I was only able to do this because my Bebe was sleeping and I was sick on the couch. It was fun for a second, though. Just watching a documentary about something I'm really passionate about (70s music) made me miss that hippie girl for about a minute and a half. And then I snap back into reality. My husband is awesome. My daughter is beautiful. I have a good life. I grew into myself, if that makes sense. The "rock chick" thing was fun when I was 20. I'm not 20 anymore.
The moment I picked up my daughter after her nap I realized that I'm in the right place. Now if only I had been born sooner . . .
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