Wandering down 7th avenue in Greenwich Village, my friend and I stumbled upon the Village Vanguard. (Yeah I know. Shocker I left the house, much less trek to a trendy town in NYC for a day). The endless line outside their dark and eerie doors drew intrigue. How curious this tiny place could draw such a crowd? Once at the door, we were greeted by a kind-faced man requesting “$35 dollars please”. My thoughts-- this place better be damn good!

As the heavy door swung open, a steep and dark staircase led us deep beneath the depths of the bustling city. A small, congested room appeared as we turned the corner. Soon another 70 or so people crammed themselves in there with us, making us a sure fire hazard. The rows of seats were solid wood, and terribly uncomfortable. Drinks were pricey and reminded me of those tiny beverages offered on airplanes. But no one sat down here for a comfy seat or tasty beverage. What would soon begin is what we all came to consume.

The room darkened more and a warm red light filled the stage before us. Six musicians took their places and began to gear up- two saxophonists, a drummer, guitarist, bass player, and a signature piano man. A miss-mash of keys and chords played as they warmed up. Then with one deep breath, a “1-2-3”, I was soon blown away to a whole new place.

I was captivated as each musician grew lost in their own ecstasy playing their instrument. What are their thoughts while up there on stage? Do they worry about their bills, kids, or even a ride home? Watching the man with his eyes closed tight while straining to hit a high note, I thought- No way! This must be their escape; their bliss. Doing what they love, and playing before a crowd hooting and hollering for more. What a feeling that must be? To satisfy the music cravings of people each night.

And that I did. I craved. The music. The city. The absolute escape. And then it happened-a key change. The piano man massaged the ivories with a bit more oomph, and the guitarist strung a heavier chord. The music ran right through me. As the walls shook from the passing subway train, my body warmed from every sound within the room that came to create perfect harmony. A moment where I wanted to lie down before the stage and close my eyes to remember; to just devour the moment for just a bit longer. Ironically enough, I turned amicably to my New Yorker friend, only to find her fast asleep (oh geez, and not even a mom yet!). I chuckled. My night owl eyes were still wide open at this ungodly hour, like they were years ago.

In a New York minute, everything DID change--body, mind, and spirit. What a difference a day makes. Twenty-four little hours. It was my much needed mommy escape. A re-awakening of my soul. Only in New York- the city that never sleeps.

Certainly some of the best things in my life thus far have been unplanned. Growing up in a strict and disciplined home, I was molded into quite a workhorse, but bucked at any notion of spontaneity.

When I saw those 2 pink lines that cold winter morning, I froze. Sliding down the wall as my legs gave way; I sat atop the cold ceramic tiles of the bathroom floor, stunned by the sheer hard truth that fell before me. Pregnant, and twenty-something– not exactly what I planned.

After many years of working with the most fragile, tiniest preemies in the world, one would think I would be better prepared for this role of motherhood. I mean, I’ve helped a fair share of children born at less than one pound to survive all odds in this world. And I’ve also seen many more suffer and pass; sometimes in my very own hands, alone.

This acute, fast-paced career of mine would surely have me groomed for being a parent one day. Or so I thought. After a year and half in this parenting business, I find just the contrary.

I’m a twenty-something mom caught in the cut throat, evolving world of motherhood. Yet again trying to find my way, and a new self. There are “young moms” and there “older moms”, but “20-something moms” are caught right in between. Like the listless middle child struggling for their own identity. There’s a reason why they made Jane Brady a little nuts-o in The Brady Movie.

I’m too young to know enough or accomplish all that needs to be before starting a family.
And I’m too old to hold on to those reckless dreams; to just break free and run. At times I feel as if I don’t have enough tread worn from my sneakers to be taken seriously, or I’m just a tattered old sole that must be tucked away in the suburbs. I’ve reached a point where I want to just take my shoes off, leaving nothing left for them to judge. How’s that for spontaneity?

I’m a mom. I don’t want to live my life like Britney Spears (I like my hair). I’m not ready to live in the confines of some gated community in the ‘burbs. I want to be a good mother. I want to feel like a woman, a mother, an individual. I don’t want to live my life in sweat pants. I don’t want a white picket fence.

Quarter life crisis, anyone? I’ve got one here, hot and ready to serve.

Look out!...Heeeeeere she comes!!!

My daughter started walking at about 11 months,and at 1 year decided that running and being chased is far more fun- Oh Joy!  Not really understanding to it's fullest capacity the meaning behind "No", she's now into everything!!! And I do mean anything and everything she can get those tiny little hands on.  I can't even begin to fathom what it would be like right now to have another baby around here (NO, I'M NOT PREGNANT!).  I can hardly keep up with my little girl running around exploring every nook and cranny.  I know there are moms out there that think " I can't wait until they start doing ___".  Well, Iet me put myself out there as the mom that is saying "Where the heck is the rewind button!?!?" If only I had some idea of that this is what it would be like with a walking toddler.  I would have never wasted my money on a nice stroller (heaven forbit she sits in that anymore), I would have put that money to good use for some roller skates (or perhaps some running shoes)!  
www.Connectingmoms.com/8sandy.htm  

5 years ago, I will never forget where I was, what I saw and how I felt at that very moment it all happened before my eyes on television. 

www.Connectingmoms.com/8sandy.htm