You know, when I was a little girl, I wanted nothing to do with anything feminine. I loathed dresses, bows, the color pink, even JEANS were too girly! I LIVED in those colorful windsuit pants that we all wore in the 90s (come on, you know you had some). I wanted to be able to run around and race the boys. I was SUCH a tomboy! I mean really, I didn't even know how to pull my hair back in a ponytail until I was in middle school. My mom always did it for me, to make me look presentable in public. I just plain didn't care. While my sisters played with Barbies, I played with Tonka trucks and Breyer Horses. I bragged that I could run across our gravel driveway without shoes on and it didn't even hurt!
I hated dolls. I never saw the point in them, I thought they were silly (never mind that I had a huge collection of stuffed animals. THAT was different!). I hated babies in any form, flesh or plastic, it made no difference. I had a birthday party when I was in second or third grade and one of the girls gave me a cabbage patch doll. I threw a fit because anybody who knew me at all knew that I hated dolls. Poor girl, she left the party crying! I feel bad now, Cabbage Patch dolls are worth a fortune! (ok so that's not the only reason I feel bad.)
Along with my hatred of babies, I also swore I would never get married. I had no sense of romance back then, I wasn't one to giggle over the cute boy in the class. I was best friends with the cute boy in class! And I could run faster than him too! I was going to be a successful jockey (or something horse related), and I would have no need for a husband.
Flash forward a decade. I became reacquainted from one of those boys I used to race around the school yard, and we fell in love. Six months ago today, I married that boy. He drives me absolutely crazy, but I'm crazy about him! I'm still trying to figure out this whole domestic wife thing. It doesn't help that I'm a full-time student and have an all but full-time job. Most of the time laundry sits on my floor until I have time to fold it, and I don't always get my dishes washed at night. My mom will be disgusted when she reads that, but for me, those aren't the most important things in my life. Dishes and laundry come second to quality time with my husband, and trying to keep myself from getting burnt out. Sometimes, I just have to unwind in the evening, instead of working even more. I'll figure out the routine eventually.