What's In A Name?

Usually I get up in the morning, read emails, check FB and get on with the day.  Today, as I was opening some mail I received in JUNE (yup, a bit behind), I noticed my name on the envelope.  I am 58 so it was a weird feeling to question my name...a name I procured through marriage 37 years ago.  I've never once questioned that this "married name" is me...until this morning.
I assumed an identity when I became "Mrs".  I really did lose myself completely.  If I had died yesterday, I never would have had this thought.  Not sure why I had it today, but maybe it's just a thought whose time has come.  Men do not share this dilemma....there are many dilemmas associated with being a woman that men do not share.  In that respect, men do lead a charmed life.  Sure, it's all been said, men are spoiled and, to quote John Lennon, "Woman is the nigger of the world."  But today, the clarity of the issue of men/women has arisen from the depths of my forgotten soul...Marriage, that sacred institution of marriage, is the problem with the world.  When two people enter into this soul-sucking, mind-numbing, heart-breaking, back-breaking partnership of "marriage", life as we know it comes to an end.  Life becomes a series of events, days, months, years, decades, filled with frustration and unfulfilled dreams and broken promises and its a WASTE OF TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Everyone is Entitled to My Opinion

Well, what a pickle. I have created my Blogspot and have not yet posted a blog. Sort of like buying a brand new Diary, or maybe an Agenda book, and then not writing in it. Just let it sit there and gather dust on a shelf. So, my Blogspot is gathering dust! Where is my duster? Time to put this puppy into service.
I'm Vicarious Mom. I really am. My first child, a son, was born on January 1, 1979. A daughter was born June 24, 1980, and another son on March 30, 1982. Just three, but wow. did they seem like a crowd. My own fault, really. I am Vicarious Mom. Since I became a Mom, that has become my whole reason for living. Weird, huh? Just gave up on "me" and became an extension of my kids. Don't get me wrong. I'm not a frenzied, fanatical Mom, just a vicarious Mom. A passive, vicarious Mom. I could spend hours just defining this phenomenon, but instead, I shall blog and soon a clear picture shall emerge.
Oh yes, there is a "dad". Another story.