reality? check!

Has this happened to anyone else? Lately I will be in the midst of a conversation, and suddenly, I hear myself talking -- about the most domestic, mundane things. The other day I found myself in a conversation with two other new-ish moms about laundry strategies. (You remember, Joy.)These are things I never imagined myself talking about with people. Because all of that seemed so traditional and stereotypical and everything I was not going to be as a wife and mother. I was not going to look like, talk like, act like a mom. I was just going to be me, same as usual, except with a kid.
Ghoulie was two weeks old when I cut my hair short -- because my whole pregnancy, I had wanted short hair, but was too concerned about the swollen-faced, bubble-head look to go for it. Once I had deflated and taken the haircut plunge, I spent the next week asking Jake, "Do I look like a mom?" (Of course, he had no idea what the right answer was to that one.) Last week, just to make sure I wasn't confining myself to any mold, I went and had it cut even shorter, so that it looked more edgy and less mom-my. (I called Jake at work to warn him: "No, honey, I mean, it's short." "Okay, I'm not worried about it. You always look beautiful." -- Sweet guy, I know. Then he came home, took one look at me, and said, "Holy shit!" He had to spend the next five hours assurring me that he liked it.)
I digress.
Lately I spend a lot of time cleaning my house, washing the clothes, doing the dishes. Grocery shopping, generally managing the household. You know, wife things. Mother things.
And yet, I'm me! And happy! Still teaching, still writing, still thinking -- everything I was afraid of losing. Apparently, my personal identity is not buried under that giant pile of spit-up-soaked clothes after all. (Thank God, because I might never find it again.)
Still jonesing for my new tattoo, though.