Yesterday I turned 32 years old. I officially feel old. When I wake up, my back hurts. When I turn off the water in the bath with a toe, my hip pops when I put my foot back in the water. And this past year, when Christmas was getting closer, I started to feel panic instead of excitement.
When I turned 30, I had a REALLY, REALLY hard time accepting it. I moped and pouted and cried. I felt like I should've either gone to college and put a ton of energy into my career, or had children early and be able to focus on my career later in life. But I did neither, I waited till I was 27 to start a family. Not that it was really my choice, but it is what it is.
This year, I am really at peace with aging. I am mature enough to realize that life goes quickly. I am not in any rush for Annabelle to start Kindergarten, Tessa to be potty trained or for Mia to start crawling. Granted there are advantages and conveniences that will come with all of those things, but I truly just want to enjoy each and every day with them. Right now they want me. They need me. And I love it. Bella has promised only to leave me in order to go to Kindergarten and to get a husband. In my opinion, those are perfectly reasonable requests. She has also promised that when she has babies, she will bring them to my house so that I can watch them while she goes to "appointments". Tessa is still a daddy's girl and only needs me when he is not around. Mia however eats, sleeps and breathes for me. Literally. She waits for me to come home at the end of the day in order to eat. So frustrating, but so sweet and romantic.
Every night when my girls go to bed, I make a silent promise to them and to myself that I will try to be a better momma tomorrow. Sometimes I have to try really, really hard. Yesterday when Bella told me that I was ruining her life, I really wanted to laugh. Sometimes it's so hard to be an adult. I wanted to tell her to try spending the day with my mom and then let me know how your life is going. But I am supposed to be the adult. And I am glad that the biggest, most devastating part of her day is because she got the Icarly toy in her Happy Meal instead of the Star Wars toy.
I guess this blog doesn't really have much of a point. I'm another year older, and a few pounds heavier. Maybe next year I will be able to say that I'm another year older and a few pounds lighter? Some things have changed, some things never will, like my dense husband forgetting to do anything for my birthday. But instead of being heart broken over that, I am choosing to be happy that my darling 5 yr old made me the most delightful birthday card. Even if she used every bit of tape we had in the house to do so.
Till next time,
Christine
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