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You know that eye-opening moment you have in school? When you start to "get" all the jokes about freshman? You thought you were so cool. Then a year or two later you realize just how immature you really were.

I've had several of these defining epiphanies. Just recently I've been catapulted into a new realm. Everything in the rearview mirror becomes suddenly clearer. All that is before me seems slightly out of focus. I guess this is growing up.

My friendships are changing again. I feel like I'm being left behind by some and wondering why others haven't grown up yet. Motherhood is a special place that I've stepped into. I knew I'd never be the same, but I didn't know to what extent this would change me. When I found out my little boy could hear in utero, I paid more attention to what I said and listened to.

I've always thought that people should grow up when they have kids. Stop the reckless, selfish behavior and strive to be there for your child. I wonder how people can drive racecars when the have kids. Do they feel that is a core part of their identity that can't be separated from them? Do they just refuse to grow up?

As a child, the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" was a simple one. Perhaps the answer was your intended career. In reality, it is so hard to become yourself. To ask if you are who you want to be.

Who am I, beyond my name, occupation, and family? What makes me this person? What will I cling to at all costs? There are things that recently have become synonymous with "me." I'm not me without my boys. What else will become "me?"

I know that I have to write. I've been writing, really writing, since I was 12. My words reflect that I've grown up. Feeling suppressed, angry, misunderstood, first loves, first everythings, finding out what love really is, accepting, respecting, understanding.

Am I not trying hard enough to make money doing what I love? I worry that I have to support my family with a "real job." I'm good at what I do. I just got a promotion and a raise, but this is a place I'd never thought I'd get to. Working in an office. Getting up early. Wearing blazers. Shaking hands. I'm an artist masquerading as a business professional.

I was so excited to get my own office, one with a window and a new computer. My office should be wherever I can carry my pad and pen. I was so close to quitting my day job. What happened to writing at the beach? What happened to "I'll never work full-time" and "I'll never work in an office?" Am I losing

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