Princess Mania

If you have a daughter between the ages of 18 months and 15 years, you may have heard of a cultural monsoon known as "princesses".  While the individual princesses are not new, after all Snow White made her regal appearance in 1939 followed by Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella.  In the early 90's a small company led by a tenacious, (and evil genius in disguise) mouse  imagined a couple more princesses.  They were different than their insipid predecessors- some of them even preferred a book over the company of, lets face it, a hunk.  Ok well that just one but you get the idea.  Now I was a little girl during this second wave of princess arrivals, yet I do not think I had one princess dress emblazoned with these princesses perfect doe eyed faces on it.  "Princess" as we know it now simply did not exist.  Then the Mouse company hired possibly the most brilliant person ever (Andy Mooney) who said "let's clump these dames together and package them as Princesses (capital pink glittery P). "  Boom! The pink tulle curtain fell and every little girl was instantly marketed to and completely sucked in- parents split into two camps: ones who just accepted their lot and dutifully bought the Ariel purse and Cinderella sheets and the parents who stood their ground and decided that the princesses are the devil clothed in pink sequins.  So when the doctor handed me my baby and said "congrats its a girl" I am fairly certain a scene played out akin to the one in Sleeping Beauty... except it was that Mouse saying... "in 2 years THIS child shall be mine to command!!!"

Seriously, just like that. The pink gauntlet was thrown down. Now I should make a couple of confessions here:

1- I love glitter and pink

2- I generally dislike "feminists".  Not those sensible ones who believe women equal- duh!  I mean those silly ones who make everything about righting the wrongs and how horrible society is- these are the ones that HATE princesses with the wrath of a good villain. 

3- I LOVE princesses. I am one of those people who woke up at 4 am (7 months preggo mind you) to don my rhinestone tiara and watching the royal wedding of Will and Kate (why yes, I am on a first name basis with them).

4- While I felt smart and capable growing up, I did not feel particularly pretty- not ugly or fat, just not pretty.  Now, looking back I was an adorable child and frankly a really pretty teen, but I just didn't feel it, so I have some unresolved personal issues that color my parenting. 

So what does a parent do?  Embrace the princess explosion and watch your little girl's face light up with glee when she gets a pair of princess socks or staunchly limit the princess product and tirelessly push the gender neutral positive message toys like blocks.   Maybe I'll wimp out and just straddle the fence by buying blocks with a princess is the way to go.... sigh  

The Ache

I have an ache.  That's probably the best way to describe the emotion.  My true love is history, but I let the fear of hard work, job insecurity, and perpetual poverty lead me away from my love.  If I could turn back time I would get my Ph.D in History ( I would also have danced on more bars in college when cellphone cameras could only catch drunken antics with a hazy dark blur but I digress).  I am acutely aware that I cannot go back and get this Ph.D regardless of what my most supportive friends would say.  It simply is not feasible in anyway.  I can chatter myself out of my sorrow saying that had I devoted my life to my love I would have grown to hate it and despise it as I do the law.  That my love is best left where I can nurture it and use it to escape my real post- JD life.  I indulge my love by writing overly accurate historical romance fiction, but in the calm stillness of the night I dream of lecturing in front a class of college students, possibly sparking the same love for history that was ignited so fiercely by one of my own college professors. I dream of research and diving so completely into a subject that I know it as though I lived it.  I miss that depth of knowledge that I gained when I did even minor research papers.  I never found that satisfaction with learning the law.  Perhaps it is because the law is far more fluid than history.  It moves like shaky ground under you, constantly changing.  History is solid sturdy.  Of course new revelations come to light and new slants are put on events, but we know who was the monarch of England in 1588. (Elizabeth I)  Perhaps it is because the law is just that.  You learn the basics and you keep up with the changes- it is like learning to swim only to tread water.  But history- it is like building a house. You get your foundation and frame right and then you add slowly to story.  You build it and decorate it and fill it with minute details (Charles I wore two shirts to his January execution so that his shivers would not be perceived as fear). Sigh, I ache with longing for my love and wonder if I could have been happier with that path. I ache with regret at not having the balls to take the leap with my love.  I ache with unfulfillment and the need to find my path.

Identity Crisis

On June 24th at 3:59 I knew who I was.  I was a lawyer at a close knit small midwestern law firm practicing family law and drafting the occasional will.  When I wasn't rocking the power suit and high heels, I was a loving albeit frazzled mom to a 2 year old girl and an exasperated, but devoted wife to a medical school student.  On June 24th at 4:00 that changed.  At that moment my bosses walked into my office and told me out of the blue that I wasn't "a good fit" with the firm.  It had nothing to do with my abilities as a lawyer and it wasn't anything specific I did; just after 9 months of glowing reviews and positive comments it wasn't working out.  (Confused?  me too but let's not dwell on that).  Suddenly, and I mean suddenly, I was thrust head first into an identity crisis- not to mention an emotional depression that lasted for far too long and a fiscal emergency- like Greece- level fiscal crisis. I am certain it left scars that I am not even aware of yet. (I already have developed an irrational fear of 4:00 pm now....) Yea, I was still a mom and a wife, but was I a lawyer?  Of course, I still have a JD and I admitted to the bar so I could in theory hang a shingle and practice law. But I am not insane, so I didn't do that.  Who was I?  What on earth was I going to do?  How would I pay my bills especially that hefty student loan. How the heck do I answer that ubiquitous question "so what do you do?"

Unfortunately, this post ends just like this: no answers. I have no idea who I am anymore.  The rug was pulled out from under me leaving me with this gaping hole in my life.  I could dwell on what I am not or I could treat this as though someone just pressed reset and now I get to figure out not only who I am but who I WANT to be.