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Living the dream

There were times... many of them, that I questioned whether or not I was doing the right thing. The times when money was tight, bills were due, tires needed changing, or credit cards were high...I wondered if I had mistakenly taken the selfish route. I could have been "bringing in the bacon", along with a struggling Jake. I could've been putting in my nine to five, dressed in nylons and a chignon, alongside the majority of American women, earning my keep.
But we saw her tiny face, pink and innocent, ready for everything the world was going to hand her, but so soft and needy, and there was no question that I would stay with her. She would not face it alone. There would be no daycare, no strangers, no missed moments. She would be one hundred percent mine. We gave up the idea of a house, of fancy cars, of restaurants and shopping sprees. And I spent each day, immersed in baby language and diapers, and meals for Jake. I took it for granted, knowing that as long as we were willing to sacrifice, this would be my life.
I have done this for a decade, now. A decade of occasionally feeling like I was a stranger in a strange land... dropped naked into an anthill of baby talk and spit up and Fisher Price. Sometimes feeling the need for adult conversation, a glass of wine, a day of just Kerensa.
I repeatedly asked Jake if this was right...should we struggle week to week, paycheck to paycheck so I could make rudimentary cookies with the kids and read Robert Munsch twelve times a day. He never wavered- yes, this was right. And I believed.
Now I know. These five brilliant faces, with expectant eyes who have never once wondered if they were the world's most gifted children, because I have told them they are. These ten loving arms, who embrace me like a superwoman, their hero, because to them- I am. These voices which clamor for me, but echo the sounds of true independence...the ability to know that I am always there no matter how far they stretch the limits. We have risen, like fiery Phoenixes from the ashes a dozen times...we have pushed past due dates and late paychecks and come to this point. A point that anyone would be proud of, and we are most proud of Them. The money is secondary, the possessions are secondary, the pride, surprisingly enough, is secondary. It is these children, who were put on pedestals, that puff up our chests like peacocks.
I know, now, especially when making comparisons, that I am living the dream. My picket fence is bright white, my breasts are proud and full of supple life, my home is bursting at the seams with love and laughter. Regardless what the future has to bring, we have done it right. Oh yes, we have done it right. Thank you.

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