Porno Model Mommy

Genevieve only had one nap today. I hope that this is not a coming trend. She was also very finicky at dinnertime. All she wanted to eat were Kix.

Her pointing is now often toward the television when she is in the living room—a disturbing turn-of-events.

It seems as though when I sit to write the first thing I think to mention is what’s going on with Genevieve. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just noticing.

Now I am sitting here reminding myself that I am more than a mom. It’s strange how the role of mom just seems to overshadow all other aspects of a woman. I can remember being a little girl and resenting that my mom worked outside the home. I wondered why being my mom wasn’t enough to fulfill her life. I also remember at other times being very proud to be able to say that my mom was an art teacher.

I suppose Genny will have these conflicting feelings about me, too. There may be a point in her life when being able to tell her friends, “My mom was a porno model!” will be a cool thing. Of course, more likely, it will be a source of embarrassment.

Which leads me to ask myself, if I had the chance to do it all over again, would I do things the same way? Would I have been a nude model if I knew I was going to have a daughter who would be upset by it one day?

The answer is, yes, I think. I know that no matter what I had done in my life, Genny would find something wrong with it at some point. There’s no use wishing to change my past now, especially since my life has given me so many interesting stories to write about today.