Morning To Night: Transformation and Paradox

This morning was a typical morning for the Coranski family. I woke up first, had my 15 minutes of Mommy-time, fed the dogs, and proceeded to wake up the kids so they could get ready for summer camp. Both kids were already awake, lying in their beds, waiting for hugs and the official start of the day to be issued. Brent woke up as the kids were putting on clothes and figuring out who's room would house the lotion bottle for the daily lathering.

I headed off to the kitchen to scramble up up some fresh eggs and pack lunches. Daddy doled out big hugs and headed outside to feed and water the chickens before taking out the trash and rounding up the kids for some more big hugs and a tease or two before heading off to work. The kids proceeded to get ready; it was swim day at camp, so they rounded up goggles, towels swim suits and swim hats, before slathering sunscreen over their freshly applied lotion. Breakfast was eaten. The trash cans that Daddy put out were drug back in by Ashagre after he gleefully watched the garbage truck empty them. Hair was done. Teeth were brushed and everyone was buckled in the car. A quick swing by the coffee shop and then off to summer camp.

Camp counsellor as I am signing in the kids to camp, "Um, we played baseball yesterday, and, wow!"

Me: "Oh ya, they're really good. They've played for two years already."

Counsellor: "I mean Elsa stepped up to bat and no one had really be hitting and she slammed it. A beautiful line drive right past the pitcher. It was awesome. Her stance, everything."

Me: "Yeah, they love it. Ashagre joined a team only a month after moving to America. They just wrapped up their second season."

Counsellor: "No. She was amazing! Not even close to your typical beginning baseball player..."

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Tonight was a typical night here at the Coranski household. I got home from work and found Brent wrapping up dinner. The kids were playing independently; one kid was in the playroom with the marble maze and the other was in their room reading. They had gotten home from tennis lessons not too long ago. I joined Brent in the kitchen and started unloading and re-loading the dishwasher, and we began debriefing our days. Brent mentioned that their tennis coach had started to divide the kids up by skill a bit and that Ashagre and Elsa were, as usual, some of the top players. The coach mentioned that Ashagre showed a lot of promise.

The kid playing with the marbles, who prefers to greet me on their time rather than mine, heard my voice, ran in, gave me a huge hug and told me a bit about their day before sauntering back to the playroom. The other kid remained on their bed reading.  It turns out the kid in their room reading had a rough afternoon and was in their room for the rest of the night after a long afternoon of disrespectfulness. It all finally ended when they screamed at Daddy after a consequence was given (10 minutes sitting on their bed), screamed louder when a tougher consequence was given (20 minutes), hit the other kid when an even tougher consequence was given (on the bed until dinner time), and finally slapped Daddy in the face while he was driving and screamed in his ear (on the bed until bedtime). Brent was a bit frazzled, but not too worked up about it, and said kid had finally stopped screaming and slamming doors and was engaged with a large stack of books. Brent and I wrapped up dinner and the first round of dishes and hollered to the kids to wash their hands and join us for dinner.

Dinner was really pleasant. The picky kid chose to eat their curry stir fry (gasp! it was vegetarian! so many vegetables!) and not make any faces or complain. The other kid was disappointed because they didn't get any broccoli in their bowl, which we quickly remedied, much to their delight. Conversation flowed and meandered and ended up in Ethiopia.

"Daddy, why did you leave the first time [referring to the first time we met them during our court trip] and then come back [embassy trip to pick them up]? It was a long time."

"In Ethiopia House (generic reference to their orphanages in our house) we ate pasta. I can't remember what we ate for breakfast. Pasta for lunch."
"Didn't you eat bread?"
"Oh, yeah, bread for breakfast. I didn't like the food when I first came to Ethiopia House."

"In Ethiopia showers were COLD. There was no lotion. We wear our clothes for bedtime. No p-jamas."

"In Ethiopia the adults would leave at night and it was scary. Monsters."

"Not at my Ethiopia House; at my house there were adults at night, but they left and came back and talked a lot while we were supposed to sleep. I didn't like to sleep there."

"In Ethiopia big girls picked me up by my hands and feet and carried me to the square and made me get in. I said no ten times. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Then I said no three more times. No. No. No. I said No thirteen times but they wouldn't listen."

"In Ethiopia big kids not nice. They pushed me, but I told someone and they had to go play somewhere else."

"What did you eat before you lived at Ethiopia House?"
"Nothing. I ate nothing. There was no food."

"In Ethiopia on weekend they wouldn't let you pick me up. I sad and angry and mad and frustrated and sad and angry. They not nice."

"What did I say when we come to America? I talked gibberish"
"No, you spoke Amharic, and you always said mindenow (what? what is it?)"

"What did I say?"
"You liked to say yinne (mine)."

Giggles.

Later on that night after dinner wrapped up and the kid that was required to cooperatively headed back for more bed-sitting and reading, the other kid and I, at their request, watched some videos from our first few days together in Ethiopia. I think even they couldn't believe the transformation. As I watched, for the first time, I realized how many developmental stages my kids have passed through in just a little over a year.  In all seriousness, the kids were operating at toddler level at best developmentally when we met them. No wonder it was a rough year. Even as new parents we've realized that some of our kids' worst behavior surfaces right before another huge developmental leap. They've literally leapt from age three or four (two?) to age six or seven in one year. That's a lot of rough patches before the sweetness of the new growth on the other side of a new milestone is actualized.

As our days grow smoother and the kids' gifts begin to shine brighter and brighter it's easy to forget where we were and where they came from just over a year ago.  For the most part, I'm happy to forget, as I don't want it to be the only story that defines them. But then there's days like today where it's important to remember because they remember and because it colors our days - making the dark moments a bit darker and the bright moments oh so much brighter.

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Brent and I wind down the day in typical Coranski fashion - talking about the kids as they settle into slumber in their respective beds. Thinking back to those first few days together, we both ponder in utter disbelief how far the kids, our family, has come in such a short period of time.  How little we knew each other; how much better we know each other now and we'll know each other as time marches on. We relish in just how good everything is right now. We bask in the excitement for the year to come and the goodness it will surely bring.

The transformation, contrast and paradox of this whole experience. It leaves me typing and typing, but unable to put it into words.

Maybe a photographic contrast will solidify my point instead.

Cheers to change and cheers to the past because without it, we wouldn't be where we are right now. Cheers to paradox because without it, the present wouldn't taste quite as sweet.

Sporty Spice(s)

Prior to becoming Elsa and Ashagre's mommy, when I would daydream about our future family the pictures conjured up in my head rarely (if ever) involved sitting in the bleachers cheering for my kids at a baseball game, tennis match, or swim meet. You see, growing up I did not come from a sporty family. We were active - we swam and hiked and rode bikes and skied and snowboarded regularly - but we were not "sporty." Yes, I did play basketball for a few years and my little brother played a couple of years of little league and football, but traditional competitive team sports were never a central part of our family fabric. By the time I was eleven years old I had already learned how competitive athletics worked in our small north Idaho community. Teams were stacked based on young talent and parental influence. I wasn't a bad basketball player. I actually showed some natural talent that could have benefited from supportive development; however, for two years I was, by default, placed on the loosing team - you know, the team that NEVER won one game - because my parents were not involved in the political undercurrent of small town Parks and Rec sports. Before I reached middle school I had already become a team sports dropout. My brother followed in a similar pattern.

High school was worse. It was straight out of Hollywood, jocks vs. everyone else, with everyone else receiving a blatantly disproportionately smaller piece of the school's focus, praise and resources than the jocks. I'm not making this up. 

True story: my high school boyfriend spent his first three years of high school living the dream of the star basketball player and long jumper. He wasn't a bad wrestler either. When, in his junior year, he decided that that scene was his dad's dream, not his own, and grew a nice set of dreadlocks, bought a Volkswagen bus, and started dating this wholesome hippie chick, our principal's relationship with him went from buddy-buddy admiration to downright hostility. I still remember the day that we chose not to attend a "mandatory" pep rally (way to conjure up school spirit - make it mandatory) and, instead, sit in the commons and study for a test we had in the next period (another tactic to cram school spirit down student's throats - make sure they must attend one more class after the pep rally before school lets out so they don't just skip out and go home). Our principal, after harassing my boyfriend for several minutes, picked him up by his shirt and shoved him against a set of lockers. He got in his face claiming, "Of anyone, you should know the importance of a pep rally." What about the importance of your education, Mr. Principal?

True story: the same principal that shoved my dreaded boyfriend into a locker for studying for a test instead of attending a pep rally forgot to attend the annual honors awards ceremony (you know, to honor his school's top scholars) because he was, instead, at a run-of-the-mill (not a tournament) sporting event.

You get the picture.

[Full disclosure - in high school I was a successful competitive snowboarder. Beyond my parents and some close friends, no one cared but me. I lived to snowboard. The school had nothing to do with my success, and in fact, lost tax dollars on the days I skipped school to ride fresh pow (I also had a 4.0 grade point average so my parents were supportive of me missing a day or two of school to ride)].

Fast forward far, far, beyond high school (can we get off that topic any faster?) to the present. I am a mom of two naturally coordinated kids that, literally, need regular sports in their lives.  

As most of you know by now, Ashagre joined his first baseball team within two months of moving to America. Without understanding the language, he picked up the game quickly and became a consistent player. Elsa was overwhelmed at first, but practiced right along with Ashagre and became a solid baseball player herself. Since the first baseball season ended, the kids have been enthusiastically enrolled in regular gymnastics, soccer, and swimming programs. They recently wrapped up their second baseball season and are now on to tennis. Through sports they have gained social skills, enhanced their natural strength and coordination, and increased their confidence dramatically. Sports give them the routine they crave, an outlet for their boundless energy, the chance to excel, and the opportunity to step outside of some of their insecurities and anxiety and concentrate on mastering the power and agility of their mighty little bodies.

Ashagre has morphed from a kid that was so humiliated by failure that he refused (completely shut down in a teary trance) to try something unless he knew he could get it right the first time to a kid that often volunteers to be the first to try a new activity. Ashagre gets over the initial learning curve of a new sport extremely quickly, and once he's passed over that hump, there's no holding him back. He has incredible focus when playing sports and quickly identifies, studies, and emulates the best athletes on the field. Just this weekend he learned how to make a basket in a standard height hoop. He shot baskets for hours following the first taste of success when his ball skimmed off the rim. A few months ago he couldn't even get the ball halfway up to the hoop. Yesterday his swim instructor told him she would likely be promoting him to the next level after just one more lesson (the second in the new season).

Elsa has always been ridiculously coordinated and fearless, making her a natural athlete. Sports are teaching her how to slow down, listen to, and learn from other adults. Sports require her to step into a place of calm focus in order to be successful. They are teaching her how to be a good sport and what it means to put her team before herself. (And how to fearlessly catapult her flipping body off many a large object, regardless of whether or not mommy or daddy are ready to catch her or not).

This past baseball season was, literally, sublime. Sitting on the bleachers in they back of a beautiful arroyo under filtered spring sunshine cheering on the kids with the other team parents was one of my favorite places to be. I purposely worked through lunch so I could catch their weekday games. Ashagre's trademark happy dance when he made it to first base after a good hit and Elsa's batting antics couldn't be missed. The kids had a great season. Their skills improved immensely from the beginning to the end. They went from pretty much only being focussed on hitting to understanding the finer points of fielding and taking even more pride in making an out or an assist in a double play than a decent hit. Ashagre still beams when we brag that he made the last out of the season. Who knew that supporting and cheering on your kids at their games could be so satisfying - the once mysterious world of the team mom has revealed itself to me, and I enjoy it.

Ashagre was hitting the first pitch thrown each time he was 

at bat on this day. I never got my camera on early enough.

Today was the first day of tennis lessons. They LOVED it! Of course, it was made all that much better by the fact that I got them "tennis clothes" to play in. Elsa and Ashagre are all about the outfits that accompany each sport they play. In fact, during his first baseball season, Asahgre wouldn't participate in many practices because he didn't get to wear his uniform.

My beautiful sporty kids.

It's That Time of Year Again - Join Our Team and Sponsor a HIV+ Child in Ethiopia!

E's favorite actor is Jackie Chan. His favorite animals are dogs, and he loves to eat hamburgers. He loves to play soccer and dance while listening to Michael Jackson. He used to want to be famous when he grew up, but now he just wants to play professional soccer.

E is a child in Ethiopia living with HIV.

Last year I organized my first cooperative group to sponsor a HIV positive child through AHOPE for Children. Ten friends from all over the country joined our team, each pitching in $42 (that's $42 one time, not $42 a month) to support E. Our combined funds helped E attend school, receive the medicine that helps him thrive, and eat nutritious food.

Since E lives at AHOPE he is also benefiting from programs designed to one day help him transition from life in the orphanage to life as a productive citizen of Ethiopia. He lives in a community that is working to break down stereotypes and stigmas about what it means to be HIV+ in Ethiopia.  AHOPE has developed a Child Development Center that both benefits the local community, and also gives people the opportunity to work and play next to HIV+ kids, thereby learning that they really are just kids living with a very manageable disease (and preparing to live out their dreams of being the next big soccer star).

Not convinced yet?  Here's a little more information about AHOPE for Children from my blog post requesting people to join our team last year:

Why sponsor a child at AHOPE?  While the number of children in AHOPE's orphanages fluctuates, they operate at or near capacity at all times.  AHOPE does more than just care for HIV+ orphans though.  Through its Child Development Center it also supports 105 HIV+ children that are still living with their families.  This sort of support keeps families together.  Kids stay out of orphanages altogether.  Twenty-five additional children are provided full education sponsorships.  There is still quite a stigma associated with HIV in Ethiopia, so AHOPE started "stigma" programs that foster friendships between HIV+ children and their HIV- peers.  Finally, and this is the big one for me, AHOPE has developed a Youth Development Program to help orphaned HIV+ children that "age out" of the orphanage system transition to healthy and productive lives in Ethiopia.  Adoption WILL NOT alleviate the hard realities that have resulted in millions of orphans in Ethiopia.  Many orphaned children will need the skills necessary to become happy productive members of their communities.  Programs like AHOPE's Youth Transition Home are working to make this happen and stand as an example for others to follow. Want to learn more about AHOPE? Check out their new website by clicking on the logo below.

$42. One time for the  entire year.  You'll get periodic updates on E (he's quite handsome), but more importantly, you'll get to go to bed at night knowing that you're sending the message to an orphaned boy in Ethiopia that he matters and that he can accomplish his dreams.




Postscript: From what I can tell right now, E's team is about 70% full. I would really like to start an entirely new team this year on top of the one currently sponsoring E. I estimate that means we need 10 to 15 new team members.  That's not many; from the stats on this blog its only 1/10 of the readers on days when I actually post something. A couple of members currently on E's team have already mentioned that they would join a second team if I could get another one organized, so that number might even be less. What are you waiting for? Join our team!

(Absorbant) Shorts

Tonight at Dinner


Elsa: Mom why you not like the soup?

Mommy: I do like the soup. I just don't LOVE the soup as much as you guys. I don't want to marry it.

Elsa & Ashagre: (hysterical laughter)

Ashagre: Yes mom. You should marry the soup. Why did you marry dad?

Mommy: Because I love him VERY much and I wanted to live with him forever...and I need someone to change my diapers for me when I'm old.

Daddy: They'll be the first diapers I've ever changed.

Elsa & Ashagre: What! No you just joking. You not baby. You no wear diapers! Mommy just joking.

Mommy: Nope, I'm not joking. Sometimes when people get really old they have to wear diapers because they have a hard time getting to the toilet in time. Someone's got to help change them. But you know, boys usually go downhill before girls so I'll probably be changing your daddy's diapers.

Elsa & Ashagre: (more hysterical laughter) No! You just joking! No!

Mommy: OR...you guys can change our diapers. You'll take care of us when we're old and can't make it to the toilet on time right?

Ashagre: No! Diapers are for babies. You not babies. You just joking!

Mommy and Daddy: Nope, we're serious.

Daddy: Or you guys could work really hard in school and get a good job that pays good money and you could hire someone to change our diapers for you.

Ashagre & Elsa: (starting to believe us a little bit) No!

When dinner was finished Elsa and I ran to the pharmacy to pick up some medication. When she got back, besides the M&M's she talked me into getting, she had something to share with her brother. At the pharmacy she saw them - man diapers and lady diapers!

(Hysterical laughter all around).

Yep, things are pretty heavy around here these days. We're really processing the hard stuff right now (like the fact that Elsa and Ashagre might be stuck with us long enough that they have to change our diapers).

The kids have transitioned into their first week of summer camp quite smoothly. We had 2 to 3 rough days, but now they're making friends, learning new games, perfecting their rock climbing skills, building motorized lego cars, and swimming like fish.

Summertime...and the livin' is easy....

Daddy You're Divine: An Interview with Ashagre & Elsa June 2012

What do you love most about Daddy?
Ashagre: That he plays legos with me.
Elsa: That he tickles me and plays with me.

What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?
Ashagre: Play in the street on scooters and bikes.
Elsa: Jumping high on the trampoline with Daddy.

What do you do that makes Daddy happy?
Ashagre: Make jokes that make Daddy laugh.
Elsa: Make cards for him.

What does Daddy do that lets you know he loves you?
Ashagre: I love my dad!
Elsa: When he rides bikes with me and my family. I love you!

What do you want other people to know about your daddy?
Ashagre: My dad is a fast runner.
Elsa: My daddy built a chicken coop for the girl chickens at our new house.

What does your daddy do to keep himself happy?
Ashagre: He cooks food for our family.
Elsa: Play with me and Ashagre.

What is your favorite memory of Daddy?
Ashagre: Riding the roller coasters at Legoland with my dad (and Elsa and Mommy).
Elsa: Going skating and mini golfing with Daddy (and Ashagre and Mommy).

Is there anything else you would like to say?
Ashagre: I like my family!
Elsa: I like when my dad pushed us on our cars at the old house.

Brent is an amazing dad. Parenting with him this past year or so has been beyond inspiring. I truly feel like we've grown even closer since we became parents.  Our parenting styles really compliment each other and I know he's always got my back. Parenting is not a one woman show around this house by any sense of the imagination. Brent has cut his hours back at work to spend the afternoons with the kids after school. He drives for fieldtrips, takes them to the library and swim lessons, throws the baseball around with them and helps them perfect their swing. He stays home with them when they're sick. He rides bikes and builds legos and jumps on the trampoline and listens intently as they read to him. He makes sure they never miss a school skate night and isn't afraid to let loose and try his hardest to be the fastest rollerskating dad at their school (he's currently the second fastest, but he's determined).  He keeps things fun and silly, lightening the energy when I get too hung up on getting something done. He's tender and loving and patient. Basically, he's an all around great dad.

Happy Father's Day Brent! We love you!

(Postscript: The idea for this post was borrowed from Rage Against the Minivan, but the thoughts and words are 100% authentic. The kids even picked out the pictures for the post.)

Promoted

Tonight the kids said goodbye to kindergarten and first grade. They ceremoniously walked on stage after their name was called, hugged their teachers, and passed through the white arch as newly promoted first and second graders. In all honesty, the promotion ceremony, while sweet, didn't move me anything near as much as Elsa's kindergarten graduation last year. Both Brent and I had had pretty rough days at work and were just happy to be able to sit in the grass with the sinking sun warming our faces, releasing the stresses of the day and cheering enthusiastically during our kid's five seconds on the stage.

After putting the kids to bed I casually picked up Ashagre's end of the year progress report and starting reading.

"Ashagre is an excellent listener for others!"

"Ashagre knows the names of the days of the week in English, Spanish, French, and German," (I bet, with a little reminder, they could add Amharic and Sidaminga to that list).

"Ashagre worked together cooperatively with his group to complete the group project. His Habitat books were thorough and informative. I hope he learned as much about his Habitat (the ocean) and the blue whale as I did!"

"What a treat it has been to watch Ashagre blossom this year! He has made tremendous growth academically, socially, and emotionally this semester. Ashagre is a loving boy who wants to please and is eager to learn. He has made many friends at school and is quickly learning the culture of America as well as that of VCS. He is always willing to help others and shows empathy for others. Ashagre comes to school ready to learn and have fun with his friends. I am extremely proud of Ashagre's growth. I know he will continue to make many strides in first grade as well. I will miss Ashagre!"

Of the 38 criteria Ashagre was graded on, he either already had the highest mark or made improvement from the first semester to the second on 36 of them. He has learned so much over the past school year. He went from not being able to recognize all of his letters to knowing all of their sounds and starting to read simple words. He has morphed from a timid little boy (arguably the shyest in class) to a confident friend that is excited to participate in whatever his teacher throws at him next and loves to be wherever the action is.

Two years ago: the little boy that delighted in the opportunity to look
at books (even if he didn't know he was looking at them upside down).

The (much larger) little boy that still loves books and is now starting to read -
posing next to his ocean habitat during the last week of school.

From Elsa's progress report:

"She continues to love books and she's developed many skills so that she may read them independently."

"Elsa is a confident speaker, always taking a turn at magic circle and doing presentations."

"Elsa worked cooperatively in the pond group to complete the project. She was very enthusiastic about her animal, the duck, and built connections to her research and ducks she sees in the real world. Elsa was an enthusiastic presenter who stayed on-topic as she shared her zoo exhibit with the community."

"She continued to love helping and leading."

On the way to school this morning Elsa announced that she would be tying her own shoes today (I hadn't had a chance to do it before we had to get out the door). Ashagre cheered her on with a ready, set, go! and she did it on the first try. The second one was even easier.

Elsa with her baby duck and her group's pond habitat.

Tonight my pride for my kids is palpable. It's nights like these I allow myself to indulge, just for a moment, in the sheer magnitude of what they've been able to accomplish in little over a year. As I've mentioned before, I feel strongly that I don't want my kids' early traumas to solely define them. On the flipside though, I hope they can one day appreciate how brave, strong, smart, adaptable and purely amazing they really are. In just one year in the American school system, they have not only learned to communicate in a new language, read, write, and do basic math pretty much at grade level, but they've assumed many of the nuances of a culture far different from that of their birth country. They've learned to cooperate and interact in a school that purposely teaches non-violent communication and other social-emotional skills after surviving life in institutions where fists, pushiness, and manipulation reign supreme. They've conquered paralyzing fears.  They're learning what it means to be part of a family after loosing their first families. They're learning to walk and speak with confidence, try even when they might fail the first few times, and trust in their innate abilities to accomplish anything the set their mind to. If someone told me someday that they'd learned to fly, I don't think I'd be all that surprised.

Mom

Earlier today, my friend Kimberly wrote on her blog after a fairly long break from blogging: “More and more we are becoming a family with kids just like any other family with kids, which means this blog will be boring to anyone other than grandparents, relatives, and close friends.” She put into words exactly what I've been feeling as I've tried to get back into the regular habit of updating the Perfect Space. The last month, despite the chaos associated with the fact that we bought a house and moved, has been so smooth. Although it still feels a little unreal, I am starting to feel like I'm part of that family I envisioned when Brent and I first committed to adopting two kids under the age of eight nearly two years ago. I have no doubt that there won't be struggles ahead (the transition from school to summer break looms), but, for now and for the past several weeks, we've truly just existed as the Coranskis - a family with a Mommy, Daddy, Elsa, Ashagre, Buster, Lola and 9 girl chickens (as the kids refer to them).


This weekend Brent went on a camping trip with the boys while I stayed home with the kids. There were weeks not all that long ago, that the mere thought of parenting solo for three days would have instantly upped my personal stress level significantly. This weekend I actually looked forward to it. I made the decision to make it a weekend all about the kids. With the recent move, we have been asking them to entertain themselves quite a bit lately. Weekends and afternoons after school, rather than being dedicated to fun family activities, have been spent dismantling and re-building chicken coops, cleaning, and unpacking boxes while the kids play two-square (a full blown obsession among children at our kids' school right now) or ride their scooters in the driveway. In general, the kids have been great sports about the whole process, and rather than self-destructing into patterns of bad behavior in order to eliminate the anxiety they are feeling about not having our attention 100% of the time, they seem to be quite comfortable with their place in our hearts right now and have handled the whole move with a lot of maturity and flexibility. So, this weekend I pushed my own anxiety regarding the disorderly state of our home aside and spent Saturday at the park with the kids while they enjoyed a birthday party. On Sunday we went on an 8 mile bike ride (yes, Elsa pedaled her tiny little bike with a tiny little crank 8 miles) along the ocean, and after the bike ride we caught the new Madagascar movie. All three of us had a great time just enjoying the weekend and each other.

Saturday night while enjoying having our quiet new house all to myself after tucking the kids in bed, I had a realization. I'm not exactly sure when the transformation occurred, but I finally really enjoy being a mom. Now, please don't take this the wrong way. I've wanted to be Elsa and Ashagre's mom from the start, and I've been one hundred percent dedicated since the beginning, but going from no kids to two, a five year old and a six year old, overnight isn't something that you can fully internalize immediately (at least I couldn't). Over the past year I've beat myself up quite a bit over the fact that I didn't feel instantly like the mom I had envisioned myself to be. Internally there was a battle of sorts going on; the independent, career driven, selfish Dakota wasn't completely convinced she wanted to succumb to the title of mom, a title that felt embedded with obligations, sub-par work performance, and very little sense of self. I wrestled with it quite a bit; I've done some grieving and redefining and, finally, I'm proud to carry the title Mom and all that it entails.