Big Bang Theory breeds deep thoughts

So, I'm watching Big Bang Theory with the HG. Wolowitz says at one point, "I have a master's degree!". He says this in indignation when his boss very distinctly calls him "MR. Wolowitz", as opposed to "Dr.". To which his boss responds "Who doesn't?".

Yeah.
I don't.

I DO have a Bachelor's. From a New York state school that, at the time, had no admission requirements.

Here's the thing. I'm smart. I'm very smart. I'm Mensa smart. (Yeah, I'm bragging. Bite me. Don't worry, it's all downhill from here.) I'm too smart. I'm smart enough that I managed to graduate from college with a 3.something-or-other even though I never studied, turned in most of my projects late, did said projects as last minute as possible, and skipped more classes than I attended.

So, I'm smart. So? Whoopty do. Me and a million other people. Brains only matter if you're going to use them. Somehow I don't think singing the alphabet to my son while signing it counts as using my brain. It's good for him, but I have to be honest, I've known my alphabet for quite some time now.

Most of my friends have impressive jobs. Doctors. Engineers. CPAs. I have a friend who home schools her 2 boys and runs a business out of her home. I have very good friends who are not currently working out of the home but they all went to excellent colleges. My point is that I like to brag about my friends. I'm proud of them. They are all smart, accomplished women. The HG and I occasionally go out with a group of friends--all of whom have master's degrees or PhD's. They are all engineers. Of the people I spend the most time with, I am the only person I know who has only a bachelor's degree. I feel like a failure.

I am not disparaging anyone who didn't go to college, or didn't finish. I'm not disparaging anyone who "only" has a bachelor's degree.

I'm disparaging myself.

When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher. A writer. A lawyer. All three. I used to line my dolls and stuffed animals up and "teach" them to read. I wrote anything and everything I could think of--I even won some writing contests. I'd spend hours creating and arguing legal cases in my mind. Direct and cross examining witnesses. Objecting to imaginary offenses perpetrated by the opposing counsel. I often fell asleep at night giving closing arguments in my mind.

As I got older, I discovered a deep passion for cooking. Food is like art on a plate to me. It's a way to express myself without having the ability to draw, paint, or sculpt. As my love for food grew, so did my interest in the human body. I love watching surgery. Reading about and researching medical and health issues. I had surgery last year and I actually asked to be awake so I could watch. My doctor declined. Hmph. (I am, however, going to be awake for my hand surgery on Aug 6th. Woot!)

My point is, I have interests. But what have I done with them? What have I done that is brag worthy? When my friends want to introduce me, what do they say? "This is my friend Kate. She' works in insurance." "She went to a nothing college." "She hasn't done jack diddly squat of importance with her life"?

And yet, at the same time, I feel a little bad for feeling this way. I have a wonderful life. I have a fantastic son. A great husband. A cute house. A good job. I shouldn't want more. I shouldn't feel entitled to more.

And I also have equally wonderful friends who never went to college. Never worked an "impressive" job. Never did any of the things I silently yell at myself for not doing. And I love them as fiercely as I love my family. So, why do I beat myself up for something I wouldn't even think twice about in someone I love? Shouldn't I love myself as much as I love them?

Yes, I suppose I should. But I still can't help but want more. I want my son to be proud of me. I want him to someday say, "This is my mom and she xxx".

But perhaps more importantly, I want to be proud of me. Now, if only I could figure out what would make me proud of me. And damn it, I don't want to write any more of these boring, navel gazing blog entries. I'm boring myself...I can only imagine how you feel.

IDKMYBFFK8

Warning: Uncharacteristic deep thoughts ahead

That's my email address.
IDKMYBFFK8

As in: I don't know, my BFF Kate. It started as a joke based on a commercial for one of the cell phone companies (Dad asks who Grandma is texting, she says "IDK, my BFF, Rose"). My actual best friend's husband asked her who she was IMing, to which she responded "IDKMYBFFK8". I'm easily amused, so when I needed a new email address, one unassociated with my message board persona, I chose this.

But now I'm thinking about what it actually means. Is it "I don't know, my best friend Kate." or "I don't know my best friend Kate."

I'm starting to think it's the latter.
Because I don't really know "Kate" anymore.

For far too long I've focused on having a child. I don't even remember a time if my life when I didn't want a child, if a time even existed. Boyfriends were merely potential husbands (very BAD potential husbands. Yikes.). A husband being the first milestone to having a child. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband very much. And had we never had children, I would still be happily married to him. But a piece of me would still be missing.

And now AJ is here. And I love him. He is my heart and soul. The absolute love of my life.
But 3 months later and I'm starting to wonder: who am I?

I too often find myself describing myself as a wife and mother. I'm "Scott's wife". I'm "AJ's mom". When pressed to describe myself, I come up empty handed. Certainly I'm more than a wife and mother. Is that OK? Is it OK to finally have what I always wanted and find myself wanting more?

The thing is, I think I almost liked myself better when I was struggling with infertility. I was focused. I had a hobby of sorts. So pathetic. Now I spend my days wondering if I'm doing enough for AJ. For my husband. For my family. Did I do enough tummy time with AJ? Did I do enough around the house? Why didn't I cook dinner? What did I leave undone that I shouldn't have? What can I do tomorrow that is somehow better than what I did (or didn't) do today? I go to be unsatisfied with my accomplishments for the day.

But you know, I read though my posts from last year and I realize, I was unsatisfied then, too. Sure, I was focused, I had a goal. But it was a goal driven by my dissatisfaction with my life. And, frankly, I find that sad. I don't want to be unsatisfied. I don't want to be perpetually in the "pursuit" of happiness. I want to just plain BE happy.

So, I've decided that I'm just going to plain BE happy. I'm going to figure out who my BFF Kate is and love her the way she is. After all, that's how I love my kid and my husband--just as they are. And I'm at least as worth it as they are, right? (My kid is cuter, but I think I trump the husband).

As a result, I changed the name of my blog and I'm going to start "finding" me. Or at least talking a lot about it. Cuz, you know, I'm all talk most of the time....