By Janna Bona, Fé Fit Ambassador Do you ever get hit with the realization that you are a bonafide grown up and wonder when it happened? Sometimes it hits me like a ton of bricks, and usually when I least expect it. It can be anything really—Driving my Honda Pilot. Paying a mortgage. Getting a new roof. Replacing my dishwasher. Realizing that some of my coworkers were in third grade when I was in college. HAVING A CHILD. You may be wondering where I’m going with this train of thought. Most of the time I perceive myself as Just Janna, not Adult Janna that is responsible for another human being. Don’t get me wrong—being an adult and mommy is pretty awesome. For the most part, I get to do what I want simply because I want to, and I have a little dude that makes me infinitely happy. However, for those of us adults who are parents, we know that we actually answer to our kids (though we’ll NEVER admit it to them). Our lives are now dictated by what those precious booger-faced beings need and want. Because of this, we sometimes have no choice but to lose ourselves to motherhood, but I think too many women lose themselves to motherhood completely. Yes, we are moms, but we were women first. Remember?

This blog was inspired by a posting I saw on Facebook:

After reading this, my first thought was, “Why can’t both be fun?” I’m not saying that we all need to stay out until 4:00 am dancing every night of the week, but it CAN still be fun (on occasion). Also, is it so incredibly terrible to think about ourselves? Taking care of ourselves as INDIVIDUALS is a very important piece of the parental puzzle (please note that amazing alliteration). The little people that we create DO deserve the best of our time, and sometimes that needs to come after an occasional night out dancing, or a five day vacation WITHOUT them, or a thirty minute workout every day, or a date night every month, or coffee with our girlfriends. Whatever your idea of fun may be, I am sick of people/media/society making me feel guilty for remembering who I was for 30 years before I had a child.