The Evolution of Perspective

People close to me know that I am very transparent about my experience being a mother. I had my first child at 18. I had a small inkling of what parenthood and motherhood were. I knew that I needed to teach her to read and write and spell her name and say her manners. I knew that I would be responsible for her for a very long time. I'd teach her about life and what I had learned so far. (How arrogant of me to believe that 18 years of experience as a human being was enough to begin to show somebody something!) I had my second child right before my 21st birthday. I had to teach him the same things AND I had to figure out how to get him to pee standing up. Again, 21 years of experience as a human being seemed like enough at the time. I wouldn't advise anyone to do it today. I had my third child when I was 27. I hadn't begun to make sense of my life in what felt like a meaningful way. I was still reeling from choices I made when I was 18 and 21. I was busy doing things that

I announced (both to myself and out loud) that I would be writing a blog about love this month. Those of you who expect this to be a traditional monversation (conversation of one) might be a little disappointed. It's ok though. Life gets better. Soooooooooo, LOVE. L.O.V.E. LOVE. You know what I used to think love was? I used to think love was tossing myself to the ground in order to be someone's stepping stone to self-esteem. I used to think that love was all give with sprinkles of take topped with a lot of resentment. I used to think that love was ugly, hurtful, and a waste of time. I used to think that love was taking what didn't "belong to me" and providing a temporary fix. I used to think that love was taking that which was broken and doing THE MOST to help it to get better (while making myself sick in the process). I used to think that love was convincing someone of how great I am....because obviously they ain't looking at me right *tilts their head a