my wants have changed

I always wanted to be a boy growing up. In my mind the pros outweighed the cons by a landslide.

Able to pee outdoors in a snap? -check
Cool boyscout campouts versus girls scout paper mache globes? check
easy haircuts, hairdos and clothing options? check
no drama, backbiting or gossiping? check
no fashion woes? check
sports teams that actually work hard? check (my favorite soccer teams were co-ed)
no bras, periods or mood swings? check (or pretending that you knew what any of those things were for year after year-i was, (ahem),  a  late bloomer)

And then, the eventual happened and I grew up. I'm no longer the tomboy I once was. I own a hairbrush and I use it! I wear make-up, dresses and skirts and my daily apron. I love to cook and bake and sew and create little crafts (some of them even turn out nice). I love to wear high heels on Sundays. I love to connect with other women and mothers and feel not so isolated in this lonely occupation of mine.

I'm proud of my curtains (but don't look too close mmmkay?) and throw pillows and decorations that I've made with my own two hands. I love wearing my hair up and different. I enjoy dancing and singing with my kids and spending all day long with them. I love staying home and watching Barney and making pizza dough. I love that they all want me and to talk to me and need me (confession: it is annoying 85% of the time).

Now that I'm an adult, I would never, not ever, in a million years want to be a man. Heaven help them! Every morning when Ty leaves for work at an unsightly early hour I'm grateful that I'm not a man. And when he comes home 12 hours later dirty and tired from his work I'm even more grateful that I am a woman.  I don't want his job or his burden or stresses. Ever.

I'll take the snotty noses and diapers and baby books and mommy guilt and oatmeal smashed cardigan swipes and the constant  shooshing and shooing and teaching and guiding and dressing and feeding and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. Because in the middle of the day, they all snuggle on me and we read books and they take a nap. And I get to open up my book and go to a Natzi execution camp in WWII, and if that doesn't smack you in the face with how good you have it I don't know what will.  At night they all go to sleep and I get to snuggle on the couch and watch stupid tv shows with my husband and laugh and feel better about ourselves. I get to go dance with my friends, and 100% of the time i leave happy. And those little breaks make my job wonderful, and not upset at all that I am a woman. I was born one, I was one before I was born, and I will be one after this life. For that, oh! I am so happy.

I do want to know how to manage my time better. I want to be more efficient in cleaning, and organizing. I want to be more patient when the kids want "another' book. I want to be better at meal prepping and planning (that jumped out the window with baby #4). I want to know how to sew clothes. I want to know how to make quilts. I want to be a good listener. I want to get better at reading the scriptures. I want to be more honest in my prayers. I want to be a better woman, those are my wants now.

Ok fine, there are still moments I want to be a man: like when it's time to fall asleep. Dude can pass out in 15 seconds flat.