Wishful Thinking

“Be careful what you wish for,” my father always said. As a kid, I never quite understood the subtleties of that sage advice. I got that wishes don’t always come out as planned; but, I figured that if my wishes did come true I would surely find a way to enjoy them. As the years progressed, I have learned a thing or two.

For example, my post-college wish to be skinny. When I was I was living in Thailand, I ate some bad seafood and got a lovely case of food poisoning. Faster than you can say “Weights Watchers leaves you wanting,” I dropped twenty pounds in ten days. I admit I was miserable; but I still had the good sense to go out and buy a black bikini. I’m no fool. I knew that it was only a matter of days before I plumped right back up to my normal size.

Lesson #1: When you make a wish, specify exactly how you would like for the wish to come true. (Food poisoning not being at the top of the list.)

During my junior high years, I only wished for one thing: to have braces on my teeth like Marcia Brady. Every Friday night, I would sit in front of the television watching the Brady Bunch, pushing my teeth forward as hard as possible.

“Don’t I need braces?” I would ask my mom, my dad and anyone who would listen. Finally my mom took me to the family dentist for a consultation. “No need for headgear here,” our family dentist said. That menacing statement didn’t scare me. I resorted to bumming rubber bands off of my friend Donna and wrapping them around my teeth. I would look in the mirror and proudly admire my invisible braces.

Thirty years later, I sit here moaning in agony from the tiny rubber bands attached to my very visible braces. About two years ago, my teeth started to move so dramatically that I was biting the inside of my cheek every time I ate. After being diagnosed with a massive overbite and other things I can’t even remember, I decided to plant metal on my teeth.

That decision did not resonate well. “You’re not going to be one of those forty year olds with braces, are you? “ asked Annie.

Renata explained, “Braces are the new Botox and boob lift.” I scoffed at their innuendo. If only braces were that easy. One recovers from those procedures in a matter of days. I have been through 19 months of oral pain and bleeding. Now I just wish for them to come off.

Lesson #2: When you make a wish, give it a deadline. (Believe me in thirty years, your old wish will become your new Achilles tendon.)

And then there’s my wish to be married and have a family. Boy, did I get that picture wrong. Not that I don’t love and adore my family. As Debbie Boone sings, they light up my life. But, who knew there would be so much butt wiping, sleep deprivation and continual chaos? I guess if you grew up in a large family, you are used to it. When I was a kid, our house was as quiet as a mouse as we sat around and read, listened to the Beatles and watched Masterpiece Theater.

I had no idea that I would lose my senses so easily. As soon as the pregnancy test’s pink double lines appeared before me and my fiancé’s eyes (there’s that timing issue), I lost my sense of fashion, sense of self and, at times, my sense of humor. And don’t let me forget my loss of memory. I am convinced a piece of my gray matter came out with the placenta. Both times.

There’s no doubt that I became a different person when I graduated to the title of mother and wife. Sometimes, I’m not sure I’m a better person, which can be a disturbing thought at 2 a.m. when I can’t get back to the sleep after the “Mommy, I have a leg cramp” wake-up call. I know I’ve learned how to love in a way I never imagined. My heart constantly fills with either joy or panic depending on whether we are cuddling on a lazy Sunday afternoon or racing to the emergency room with a broken arm in the middle of the night.

Lesson #3: When you make a wish, be open to all that may accompany its fulfillment.

My newest wish is very simple. It involves sleep, chocolate and a few Brady Bunch re-runs. And if I wish carefully, an extremely tight black bikini might make a brief appearance.