When I Grow Up. . .

I remember when I wanted to be a Cheerleader when I grew up.  Really, I did.  I must have been about four.  I was certain that was my destiny.  I couldn’t wait to adorn myself with skirt and pom-poms and yell, scream and cheer on my team. 

Later, probably around age 10, I was certain I would be a teacher.  I just knew I was going to stand in front of little ones and teach them about math, science, history. . . it didn’t matter. . . I just knew I would teach.  I couldn’t wait to have little eyes look up to me in the same way I looked up to so many of my teachers.

I must have been around the age of 16 when I decided that I was going to be a lawyer.  I still remember driving through the college campus of the school that would help me meet that goal.  I could envision myself standing in a courtroom and fighting for the underdogs, fighting for justice, fighting for. . . I don’t know what. . . I just knew I was going to fight.
(Anyone who really knows me is probably laughing right now, knowing that I would be eaten alive.)

I was 18 when I decided journalism was my lot in life.  I was going to follow the big story.  I would chase it down and piece it together so that people all over the world would get their news from me.

At 19, I came to my senses and went down the path that I knew was meant for me.  I would be a nutritionist and help people in the area of food and wellness.  This, I was certain, was the right fit. 

It was around age 23 when I was felt sure that I had found it.  I would be a physical therapist.  Immediately, I began checking into graduate schools.  I could just see myself helping athletes heal their injuries so they could do that which they wanted to do.

Cheerleader, Teacher, Lawyer, Journalist, Nutritionist, Physical Therapist. . . I did not become one of these things.  In fact, I became all of these things.

I became a Momma.

Every single day I cheer these two little people on as they learn, grow, and try new things.  Minus the skirt and pom-poms. . .

I am a cheerleader.

Gratitude, money, love, helping, sharing, health, kindness, self care, math, speech. . . it seems every moment we have together is a teachable one. 

Yep, I’m a teacher, too.

There are some days when I am a defense attorney and other days I am on the prosecution.  Often I can be found advising or giving counsel.  But there are some days when I am so good I am promoted to judge and sentencing one or both of them.

I am a dressed-down lawyer.

Each day I get to create an atmosphere that encourages a healthy lifestyle.  From taking them outside and letting them run and play to showing them what it means to prepare and cook a healthy meal.  Today Charlie said his favorite part of the day was pounding the chicken for our dinner. 

Yes, I am a nutritionist.

And on some days. . . they get hurt.  They need that special touch, that specific treatment, that distinct word to make it all better.  On many days. . . I have those words. 

I am a physical therapist. 

Maybe these titles weren’t given to me by any governing board or professional association. . . but I’ll tell you what. . . I am claiming them.  I will wear them proudly and own them, because I have earned them and I am earning them. 

When I was 4 or 16 or 23 I liked the way those titles sounded. . . Teacher, lawyer, physical therapist.  Those words–they sounded so nice.  Fast forward a couple of years, though, and things have changed.  In those days the word “Momma” wouldn’t have even crossed my mind.  Today, I know something that I didn’t know then. . .

This Momma thing. . . I was born to do this.