Her

Perhaps one of the nicest things about being young and idealistic is because whether you are right or wrong, you feel that your opinions, your goals and your feelings matter. Maybe they don't matter to the person next to you, or to someone across the world, but to you they matter.

Once I felt like I was a goddess, not in terms of beauty or wealth, but in that I held in my hand the possibilities of a thousand lifetimes. I was a young, attractive and smart women in the time of the new millenium, the years that no one and nothing could or should have held me back. There was no glass ceiling placed above my head, no strings to pull at my heart. I was free, free to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, do what I wanted, with whom I wanted. It was all about me, and my wishes, dreams, desires. And I knew. Barely out of high school I had dreams of ruling the world, making my name known, taking my place as leader of people...

Today I don't know where that precious girl has gone. She disappeared, quickly, in the last few years. Sometimes, in the mornings, when the rest of the house is asleep, I wake up with a start, sitting up and gasping, as if she is trying to save herself from drowning in the life I have put her in, desperately clawing to get out, to make her mark, to DO something. You see, she doesn't feel like I have done anything in our life. She feels that without a college degree, without being a "power" worker, and staying stuck in this place, we are a worthless individual. We have talent, we have intelligence, but no one values me because to them I am just a mother. I work over forty hours a week in a nice paying, normal secretarial job. She thinks she should be working 80 hours a week bringing money in hand-over-fist. I take and pick my children up from school, she thinks she wouldn't have wanted children. I envision my perfect marriage, with a perfect husband and my two adorable daughters. She envisions Armani suits, 4-inch heels, and a blackberry permattached to her ear.
It's not that I begrudge her. Sometimes I wish I could rewind time and focus on where our paths diverged. Half the time I want to be her, half the time I'm thankful I am not her.

NaBloPoMo

In honor of this month, I figured that I would try to get stuff out here on my blog. I can't promise everyday, especially weekends, and so here goes.
I don't understand people that come hang out at my office and just walk around waiting on folks for hours. Especially when you are trying to let the boss(es) know that you want to leave early. I know in my office, it can be especially hard to get an answer from Boss A or Boss B, but still, quit walking around my desk, hoping to run into one of them.
Anyway, I will get pics of the girls at Halloween up sometime this weekend, although I am mad at myself for buying Cici a "black cat hat" and losing it until sometime last night (one day after Halloween). Also, she had some portraits done at school yesterday, and instead of any kind of "Christmas-sy" clothes, she had what looked like an Easter dress on. Oh well. She is so small and fits into 3 months size clothes now, when she is 6 months old, I have no choice but to get her into some of the very cutest stuff we got as shower gifts before she can't wear them anymore.
In workout news- still sore from workout on Wesdnesday, but liking the burn. However, I am going to have to "re-do" the actual workouts to allow for time. MWF will now be weight-lifting, leaving T and TH for cardio. I am more concerned with toning the problem areas than I am with losing a whole bunch of weight.