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I have to be honest.
I’ve been phoning in my Elsa performances lately. My daughter is on to me, and she’s told me several times that I am not using my magical powers right, and I often miss my cue to break into a soul-wrenching rendition of “Let it Go.”
I was about ready to quit.
So it was with much anticipation that I left last week with my husband on our first-ever trip alone since our first child was born seven years ago. Five days without playing Elsa or doing laundry or refereeing arguments over who was talking first or ordering food from restaurants based solely on what can be easily divided between my two daughters. Five days of adult conversation and ... wait for it ... naps in the middle of the day! Greatest invention ever.
Guess what I discovered? I still love my husband after 12 years of marriage. It was a pretty nice thing to rediscover, but I also learned something else on our trip: I am a fun person.
That may sound a little braggy, but it’s true. I am fun. Of course, who wouldn’t be fun when the toughest part of the day is dragging yourself down to the beach?
I laughed. I was easygoing. I smiled.
And then, it hit me: Do my kids get to see me like this? I want my kids to see me like this. Sure, they see me having fun and doing enjoyable things, but when was the last time they saw me relaxed, carefree and not just having fun, but being fun?
I resolved to not leave that fun lady at the beach. I would bring her home with me and my kids would be so impressed with their fun, super easygoing mom.
And hello reality. Goodbye midday naps. Goodbye hammock. Goodbye using the bathroom without an audience. Goodbye easygoing mom.
But I refused to say goodbye to fun mom. My kids deserve to know that mom, too, along with homework mom, soccer mom, family home evening mom and chauffeur mom. So here’s what I decided: I am my most fun when I actually enjoy what I am doing.
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