The confession I’m scared to confess.

After a 2-week blogging hiatus and stay-cation with my family, I’ve come to a shocking conclusion that I never thought I’d be able to admit. EVER. DEEP BREATH. Stay-at-home mommyhood isn’t all that bad. It’s FUN. I’M HAVING FUN.

Crap. Did I just say that out loud? I was the girl who always figured I’d have kids, but never dreamt about having kids. I was the girl who never really enjoyed children, nor ever cared to even hold a baby before I became a mother myself. I was the girl who always wanted to work for the sake of ‘accomplishing goals and being productive,’ despite the blessing that I don’t have to work for financial stability. My own mom recently called me out. “You’re having fun. I can tell.” Why have I been so scared to admit it? I know why: because if I admit it then the Universe will hear me and all potential work goes out the window. That’s no good either. I still like to work. I still want to work. It’s just that my wants are more balanced now. Again, crap.

So how did I get from heartless to here? I blame LilMiss. All almost-4-months-old of her. Red kneesocks and all. I also blame LadyP and her funky striped legwarmers. Although my heart and soul misses working like I used to (and all the fabulous fun that brings), kneesocks, legwarmers and even tutus seem to be screaming at me lately: “It’s okay! We’re here for you!”

The need to make my big confession came crashing down on me at LadyP’s first dance class this week. To say I was excited for this day is the understatement of the year. I danced (competitively) from the time I was 3 all the way until college (and then beyond, if you count musical theater work). Dance was my first love (sorry Hubby). Another confession here: I prayed and prayed to have little girls so I could go back to dance class again. Don’t judge me.

So when LadyP floated around in her tutu to “At Last I See the Light” from Disney’s Tangled (not listening to the teacher, by the way, but that’s another story), I started watering up. Major. And fought like hell to keep any tears from actually falling down my face so that the other moms in the room wouldn’t think I was totally nuts. Talk about a moment of clarity listening to the lyrics:

And at last I see the light , And it’s like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light , And it’s like the sky is new
And it’s warm and real and bright, And the world has somehow shifted
All at once everything looks different, Now that I see you

I know, I know. Totally cheesy. Such a cliche. But that’s the thing about cliches: They often turn out to be true. Despite my tears, struggles, hustles, frustrations and fears about not fulfilling my potential and never working again (feelings that everyone I know who works in television often get), I’m beginning to accept that it’s OK to ebb-and-flow. I’m a mom now. Some years will be work-years. Some years will be mommy-years. I’m learning to have faith that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be at this moment in my life.

Aaaaaaah. It feels so good if you just ACCEPT and ENJOY. And admitting that I’m actually having fun makes it so much better.

And then this morning I got a few calls to work. (Score!) The fabulous magic of confession.

WHAT ARE YOU SCARED TO CONFESS?