If you had told me during my high school days—while I was lost in a book by Jack Kerouac or jamming to an R.E.M. cassette—that I’d be a stay-at-home mom to six kids, I would have laughed so hard I’d have blown smoke in your face. I would’ve looked at you and said, “You must be out of your mind! I’ll never don the apron of domesticity that society is trying to pin on me.”
The thought of being 41 and expecting my seventh child? Mind-blowing! If you had told teenage me that I would find joy in packing lunches, braiding hair, and, shockingly, being a non-smoker, I’d have stared blankly. I was all about that smoke life back then.
My grand plan was to join the Peace Corps, maybe snag a gig with the CDC, and find a partner who shared my vision of a simple life with chickens and goats. Fast forward to today, and I’m happily married to a beardless man who hasn’t built a single chicken coop. Our grocery bill might as well be sky-high, thanks to the small army of kids who eat like they’re training for a food marathon. I shuttle the kids from one place to another, never quite caught up on laundry, and my TV time is usually reserved for Nick Jr. Still, I’ve grown to love this ordinary life I once resisted.
In many ways, though, I’m still that 17-year-old at heart:
- Bookworm at Heart: My love for reading hasn’t faded, even if it takes me a year to finish a book now. I’m still drawn to works without cartoon covers, but my bedside table is a constant reminder of my reading goals—mostly just gathering dust.
- Cool Music Enthusiast: I still enjoy music. My kids might not think Neko Case or Wilco are cool, but they keep me in the loop with current Top 40 hits. Ed Sheeran is adorable, so I’ll let him slide.
- Fashion Observer: I pay attention to fashion trends—not because I’m going to wear them (trust me, midriff tops are a hard pass), but to keep an eye on what I’ll be saying “Um, no” to when my kids ask for certain outfits.
- Party Bus Dreams (Sort Of): I used to dream about hopping onto tour buses to meet bands. Now, I’m buying a 12-passenger van because we’ve run out of room in the Suburban. The only “rock stars” on my bus are my kids, and the only substances are my Xanax and maybe some Benadryl for long trips.
- Cherishing Alone Time: As a teenager, I loved my solitude and deep thoughts (or at least I thought I had profound thoughts). Nowadays, “quiet time” usually means reading a few pages of that book I hope to finish by late 2017.
- Still in Love: I’m still smitten with the same guy I had a crush on at 17. He’s grown into an amazing man and father—way hotter than I ever imagined, even if he’s not into chickens and goats.
- Unintentional Smoke: Sometimes you’ll find me in a cloud of smoke, but it’s not from cigarettes—just my culinary mishaps when I forget to set the timer on the oven. Let’s just say chicken nuggets can turn into something quite unappetizing after 64 minutes.
The teenage me would never have predicted that I’d worry about ingredient labels or celebrate getting laundry done. She didn’t know the joy of a good night’s sleep or the satisfaction of a non-sticky kitchen counter. I’m grateful that the artsy girl I was back then had no idea where true happiness would lead her. Life is about embarking on a journey, embracing unexpected waves, and adapting to the ebb and flow with open arms.
Hey, teenage me: I ended up rocking that domestic apron after all, and I’m owning it!
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Summary
In this lighthearted reflection, the author shares how she remains similar to her 17-year-old self despite her unexpected journey into motherhood. She highlights her love for reading, music, fashion, and the enduring love for her partner while embracing the quirks of her domestic life today.