Hi, My name is.....

Back when Oprah was on the air, every once in a while you would hear her make a comment about the reason she's never wanted to get married. She says she was always afraid of getting married because she was scared she would lose herself. For the longest time, I never knew what she meant. Then I got married and had kids.

Now, keep in mind I got married at 18. Maybe this applies more to me because I got married so young. It seems like as soon as I figured out who "Cara" was, I became Dayton's wife, then ZoeJane's mom, then Michael's, and now Phoenix's. It's a struggle to remember to do a little something for myself every now and then. I'm too busy being wrapped up in things Dayton needs done and taking care of babies. By the time all that's done, there's the house...and then I'm too tired to even give a second thought of what I can do for myself.  Within a few weeks, I'll be adding school back to the list. It's exhausting.

A couple of weeks ago I made a point to buy myself some girly body wash. It wasn't generic. I didn't have a coupon (well, I did...but I forgot it at home). And still, I made a point to buy it. Just because I wanted it (I'm still dealing with a little bit of guilt seeing as this pretty smelling body wash benefits no one but me). Just because it smelled pretty. It was a first step back to taking care of myself. It sounds stupid, but it's the little things. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don't even recognize myself. My identity seems to be lost in the pile of never ending to-do's. On top of that, with everything that's happened in the last couple of years (if you know me well, you know what I'm talking about), I feel even more lost. I've weathered things that I always told myself I never would. Is that because I don't even remember who I am? I have no idea. I really don't.

So for all the wives and mommies, how do you keep from losing yourself? Or better yet, how do you find yourself again once you realize you're lost?

P.S. This week I think I'll splurge on the hot pink razors I love. Is it sad that I'm excited?

I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no idea how to get over all the shit that I need to put behind me. I don't know how to let it go. It's becoming an issue. I feel like it makes me hypersensitive to everything that's going on. Everything makes me think of it. It seems impossible to let go. Is that supposed to be a sign that I wasn't supposed to let it go in the first place?