Why I Am Not An Aries

Mom's girls

While in utero, I opted to trans astrologically. They predicted I’d be born around my mom’s April 12th birthday. Instead, I share my date with Albert Einstein. Pi Day.

Being a month premature had drawbacks. Weight in at just a few pounds, I’ve been playing catchup ever since. Because of my premie status, I got the impression that I’d always be delayed developmentally, never giving me the impression that there would be a day that I’d be on par. If only I realized that if I put a bit of work in, I would have done better academically. Instead I chose to glide. Heck, if expectations gave me liberty to slide through the k-12 years, I gladly spent my energy on being a better athlete instead.

I will say that  I’m not claustrophobic thanks to my incubator days at a Boston hospital. Brigham & Young Women’ Hospital. Being a month early seemed to set the level of expectations at low. So many of my school reports say, “Well, she’s smaller than the other kids; she’s not as attentive as the other kids. She’s working hard at keeping up with the other kids but is falling a bit short.

I picked up on this attitude of lower expectations and ran with it. I’m always looking for the easy way of doing things, though that doesn’t mean I don’t work hard.

If I were to label myself, and the list is not in any particular order: I’m a partner, a teacher, a mother of my dogs and cats, gardener, reader, writer, student, bowler, joker.

My main goal in this life is to have a good time and make people laugh.

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