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 and every day there is a story to tell. Like the story of the beautiful peanut butter pie we made today that ended up on the rain soaked side-walk of a friends house. I see the stories everywhere and am lucky enough to be the one to write about them.
I am a journalist.
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.