Sunday, December 30, 2012

This is 34

I still can't believe it despite the fact that its been true for almost a week now.  I'm 34 years old.  I can't believe it because there are days I don't feel that old and days I feel much, much older.

Ten years ago I was living in Florida and living the crazy life of a young woman in her twenties.  I was having fun and my only thoughts toward the future was that I wasn't getting married and I wasn't having kids.  I wasn't putting much thought into what I would be doing either.  Who would have guessed how different things would be.

So this is 34 to me.  I'm a mother of two who has too much to do and not enough time to get it all done.  I don't eat right, don't get enough sleep, haven't bought myself new clothes since Bush was in office, never seem to get my house clean enough, do laundry at least every other day if not every day, get a hair cut once, maybe twice, a year if I'm really lucky, maybe wear make-up less than that, live in my flip flops because shoes and socks take too much time to put on, and wonder where the girl who wanted to be an author went too.

To me, 34 means being a mother to my almost two-year-old son who has autism.  It means days spent doing therapy either at home or in centers.  It means doctor appointments and repeating one word 7,000 times a day in the hopes that Angel will repeat it.  It means constantly getting him to stand up straight, don't put things in his mouth, don't hit erratically when he gets even the slightest bit upset, and treating that single word he finally says like he has figured out the meaning of life and the whole word should celebrate.

To me, 34 means being a mother to my four-month-old daughter who thinks she is fourteen.  It means days of washing the same bibs I washed yesterday because she drools so much from teething.  It means bottles and formula and cereal, moving her from the bouncy to the swing to the Bumbo to my arms every five minutes because she gets upset she can't just do it all herself.  It means encouraging Bella when she shakes her rattle or reaches for her bugs or just smiles the most beautiful smile in the world because she sees her mommy.

To me, 34 means being a wife to my soldier.  It means washing his laundry, picking up his shoes, making dinner, unloading and loading the dishwasher, and sweeping up the dirt his boots track in.  It means knowing he will miss most of his kids' appointments and mine and wondering what time he'll be home at night and if he will be called away in the middle of a holiday.  It means hearing him leave at 5:30 every morning for pt, the scratch of Velcro on his uniform when he takes his top off, and knowing the first thing he wants to do when he comes through the door every day is kiss me.

To me, 34 means life is nothing like I expected it would be, but being grateful for the journey and the outcome.  Tim McGraw has a song about his next thirty years.  I might borrow the idea for a moment.  In my next 34 years, I'm going to enjoy watching my kids grow up and conquer the world, see new exciting places with my husband, and learn that sometimes being the best for everyone else means do what's best for me first.  In my next 34 years I'm going learn if the girl I use to be is still inside the woman I've become.

Happy birthday to me... a few days later. :-)

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