BECAUSE I SAID SO...
WON’T YOU BE MINE, ME? WRITTEN BY JULIE BURTON / PHOTO BY JAMI BOWMAN
Okay, okay—we get it. February is about love. It’s about saying I love you and showering your valentine with roses, chocolates, and red hots. Am I the only one who likes red hots? Most of us know Saint Valentine was a saint who had something to do with love. He’s also the modernday saint who allows us to buy a new pair of shoes without guilt because our kid needs a Valentine’s box for their class party.
Valentine’s Day puts a focus on romantic love. I’m not going to write something boohoo-ing about my lack of “in sickness and in health, till death do us part” valentine. Divorce allows you to find new love. Romantic, sure. But there’s also love of self, love of freedom, and love of career. By the time I was 30, I was married with a three-year-old and a six-year-old. Being a young mom has its advantages. The sleep-deprivation, exhaustion, and babysitters are years behind me. I’ll be an empty nester in five years. I’ll never say I’m done parenting, but turning 44 with an 18-year-old and a 21-year-old is a great reward for giving up “the selfish years.” The selfish years include building an entry-level career after college, saving and then blowing money on international travel, taking tequila shots with strangers at 3 am, racking up a list of men you’ve loved (even if those men were for one night only), and doing shrooms before a concert with girlfriends. But, no—my selfish years don’t include those stories. If they did, this column would be much more fascinating. I wish I was more interesting than a divorced 40-year-old mom of two daughters.
nipples, greasy hair, begging a toddler to shut her eyes, crying, taking selfies with my kids, watching friends on Facebook live it up in Miami taking tequila shots with strangers, spending the little money I had on diapers, being lonely, and wondering what I wanted to be when my kids grew up. Time moved exhaustingly slowly in my twenties. I know that what I write is open for reader criticism, and many of you are thinking, But you have two beautiful daughters, Mama! I do. I don’t regret having kids at a young age. My “selfish years” are getting close, if they’re not here already. This year my valentines are my kids (they’ve always been my kids). But they’re also my newfound freedom in my apartment that I made my home. I can have wine and popcorn for dinner and no one is there to give me a side-eye. I can save money for a solo trip to a spa in Arizona just because. I can focus on my career and learn from those 20-year former 20-somethings on how to make a name for myself. I don’t have small children to distract me from being a single, working mom. I’m in love with my selfish years. This version of my selfish years just comes with two young women watching.
My 20-something stories include cracked
Julie Burton is an Overland Park mom, writer, K-State lover, and bacon-hater. She is a blogger and contributing author to the humor book, But Did You Die?: Setting the Parenting Bar Low. Burton’s also been named one of the Today Show’s “funniest parents.” And yes, she really does hate bacon. Please don’t drop her as a friend. Follow Julie at: julieburton.blog • facebook.com/julieburtonwriter • twitter.com/ksujulie • instagram.com/ksujulie
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SIMPLYkc MAGAZINE
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FEBRUARY 2022
