Evolution of a Suburban Mom

When I first moved to DC, I lived the life. I went out clubbing until the wee hours of the morning; would watch the sunrise before grabbing breakfast and then to bed. I hit all the hot spots on opening night. I learned quickly how not to wait in line and how to avoid paying cover charges.

Over time I gave up my restlessness, bought a condo and settled to some extent. I became a Hill Rat which means it took A LOT to get me to leave Capitol Hill. My friends were Hill Rats. The man who was my boyfriend, became my fiance and then my husband - I turned him into a Hill Rat. He was worse then me though. I lived, ate, drank, did everything on the Hill except for one thing. I didn't work on the Hill. He did.

I still went out but not necessarily long enough to see the sunrise. I was no longer interested in hitting the latest hot spots. In fact, I refused to try a new place until it had been open for several months and some of the coolness had wained. Getting me to leave the Hill for the 4th was hard (we had the best, unobstructed view and most importantly - we weren't innundated with tourists). Being in the thick of things was no longer important to me.

Marriage didn't change our lives. Hell, it didn't even change my name. Still haven't gotten around to that. We continued to live life on a whim. We did what we want pretty much when we wanted.

Until I found out I was pregnant. Talk about having your life turned upside down. We were living in a 625 sq ft condo with a bar on the first floor of the building. Not exactly kid friendly.

7 months pregnant and I found myself unpacking boxes in a 3-story townhouse 20 miles outside of the city. I've traded the main drag for a court; sewer roaches and rats for squirrels and deer; sirens for chirping birds; cars for trees; a walk to the corner store for a 3 mile drive to the corner store.

An exciting Saturday night now is a game of Uno Attack and a bottle of wine.

I don't drive a minivan. It is too early to tell if my son will play soccer but for me the transformation is complete. I am a suburbanite. I will occasionally drive back to the old neighborhood. The traffic makes me cringe. Searching for a parking space sends my blood pressure sky high and the pedestrians and tourists? Oh it make me ill just thinking of it.

I am not one of those suburbanites who is afraid of the "big bad city". Spent most of my years in one city or another. No. The stereotype doesn't scare me. The pace does. I've slowed down. I've mellowed. Shit I've morphed right into a stereotype myself haven't I?

If you see me listening to Adult Contemporary (formerly known as easy listening) while perusing the latest minivans, please do me a favor? Find the nearest Chevy Avalanche (my brother will loan you his) and run my ass over. Then back up and run it over again just to make good and sure!