Once upon a time there was this girl... born an only child in Buffalo, NY, who lived a fairly unremarkable life. Though not for lack of trying. Growing up as an only child, you must have a big imagination- huge actually- to keep yourself entertained. As a kid I was convinced I would grow up to be a famous actress. (Think "The Facts of Life") I vividly recall sitting in my hairdresser's chair telling her I needed to be famous someday, otherwise there was no point in living.
Fast forward to middle school, I recall the guidance counselor's coming around having us take a ridiculous assessment test, which would supposedly help us determine where our interests and talents were to decide our future careers. Seriously. I was 12. I remember thinking what a joke it was, and have no idea what my test indicated. To be honest, I think I filled in the bubbles in a pictorial pattern....
By the time I got to high school the pressure was ON. So many of my peers seemed to have their lives mapped out. Career, when to be married, how many kids they wanted. Freshman year my counselor asked me, "What are your plans for the future?" I told her I wanted to be an undertaker, and stifled a laugh when she asked me if I had a fascination with death. No, I had no intention to attend mortician school. (I honestly don't know what it is really called!) I was simply being a cocky, smartass teen.
During those high school years I had fun. Amid the fun I did begin to mature, and began writing editorials for the school newspaper, and took journalism as an elective. Aside from being an avid reader, it seemed I could write fairly well. This I directly credit my growing up as an only child. I spent the bulk of my time with adults, and had a mother who talked to me more like an adult friend than her daughter. I always had a large vocabulary, and won nearly every verbal fight I had ever had, because I was always a quick thinker, and a bit of a word smith.
My other talent was singing/performing. I was a member of our auditioned show choir, in the school musicals, and participated in select honor choirs and All County Chorales. But somehow "Broadway" didn't seem much like a practical career goal, particularly when my third talent was clumsiness. With 2 left feet, my dancing skills were not quite up to professional standards.
Finally junior year rolled around, and brought along with it SAT's and college applications. There was no internet "back in the day" so I began scouring the guidance office for college materials and reading up. How to choose? Well, it seemed a pesky major was going to be requested, so boom. Communications with a minor in journalism. Sounded very official and gave me something to say when all the aunts and uncles began asking. So I married it, and chose a school with a great program for it. Graduation came, and that fall I attended Kent State University.
Well, sort-of. I mean, I was there. In a dorm. I had a schedule, and books. And freedom. What did I learn at KSU? I learned that my favorite bar was The Library, because they had $2 pitchers and how to drink said pitchers through a straw. I learned that classes weren't really mandatory because they were in lecture halls filled with 100 of my closest friends, and the profs never even knew if you were there. I also learned that your parents will yank you back home if you begin failing said classes because they weren't paying out of state tuition for me to party. Oops.
Back home again I was down in the dumps. It probably goes without saying that being an only child- and a female- that my parents kept me under careful watch. I transferred to a local community college and began plotting my return to KSU in the fall. That was until I met my husband.
Now, I know what you;re thinking- I was only 18. But after a few dates, I knew he was "the one". This was a big deal, I was not the type of girl who even mentioned marriage, and disliked baby sittng. I had no daydreams about "someday" when I would be married to my Prince Charming and having babies. But here I was, a baby myself, with a one karat solitaire diamond on my finger, planning my wedding.
I stayed in school at the community college, and began changing up career ideas. Perhaps I was best suited to be a teacher. Or did I want to go into broadcast journalism? No, writing was for me, it was my thing. But then advertising (Such a broad spectrum career!) was on my radar... It was too much, too fast. My brain wasn't able to process the thoughts. I was preoccupied with my new love, and planning a wedding. I wanted tomorrow to begin that moment. And patience was never my strong point.
So I withdrew. I needed to take time off to figure out what I wanted "to be".
And in the meantime, I became a wife. And a mother- 3 times over. I made the ever important decision to be a stay at home mother, one of the best decisions I ever made. I supported my husband's career, encouraging him to make a "big move". And we did. We relocated to Rochester, NY, and his career has grown leaps and bounds. He is thrilled with his company, and career, and I am happy for him.
I happily stayed home, making each house a home, loving taking care of the kids- and hated when they were old enough to leave me and begin school. When my littlest egg began school full-time, I was left to wonder "Now what?" And 6 years later, I am still trying to figure out the answer to that question. And I guess I am also hoping that this blog may help me to sort that out...
To be continued...
