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Who was I before I became mom? And do I even want her back?
There’s a photo of me from before. Before the minivan, before the school calendars, before I started buying things in bulk and knowing instinctively which child prefers the blue cup. In the photo I’m laughing at something off-camera, hair loose, completely unaware of what’s coming. I look at that woman sometimes and feel two things…
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When did I stop being fun
There’s a version of me I lost somewhere along the way. Maybe it was the diapers. Maybe it was the sleepless nights. Maybe it was putting kids hockey before whatever it is I used to do before youth hockey was in my world. I can barely even remember that version of me. Photos tell me…
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