Where does the time go?
Another January has rolled around.
I have had yet another birthday. It came even though I kept trying to find a way to just skip it.
Even though this year I got one of the best birthday presents I have had in a long while.
A new president. And a new hope that what has been going on in this country will be turned around and we can once again feel good about being Americans. Not embarrassed and somehow responsible for the past 8 years even though it wasn't my vote that got us into this mess in the first place.
But either way, I feel a joyful and heart swelling rush that we are on a better track. A track that will lead us to a future that we can feel good about for our kids.
Now that I am all of 44, I feel like I have lived so much longer than the sum of those years.
I think I am getting soft in my old age, nostalgic.
I look at my kids and wonder where did THEY come from? Who are these adults that have their own lives, their own beliefs, and their own path that I don't have a say in anymore?
My oldest three have become their own people and I hope that I have given them what they need to make it in this world. They are each so different, so vibrant, so independent.
Each with goals and dreams for the future that are uniquely their own. Busy with their own life, I don't get to see them as much as I would hope, but having the younger 3 still under my wing it takes some of the sting out of that.
My oldest has moved a state away and I haven't seen him in over a year. We talk on the phone but that isn't really the same. I miss seeing him, seeing his smile and hearing his goofy laugh. He was my baby. Bald, often cranky and absolutely adorable. Now he is tall, handsome and going to be a daddy.
I know that has not sunk in yet. Because if he is going to be a daddy than I am going to be a grandma.
Grandmas are old people who sit in rocking chairs and knit and have gray hair pulled up into a bun and wear tiny little glasses on the end of their nose.
Being that I do not fit that bill I cannot possibly be a grandma. There that settles that. I feel better now.
I still have vivid memories of removing a stuffed Big Bird out of a puddle of water on the bathroom counter one night 18 years ago, trying to soak his fuzzy yellow butt in a towel so he didn't drip all over the floor. As I was grousing about the lack of care they were showing for their belongings, it occurred to me that one day Big Bird wouldn't be on my bathroom counter and the perpetrators would not be asleep in the other room cuddled up asleep with Monkey and Hippo.
And so it has come to pass.
But now when I go into the bathroom I am greeted by 2 pairs of socks and a discarded button down shirt. All removed for comfort by the wearer before engaging in bathroom activities. This is a daily sight, no matter how many times I tell him to put his stuff in the laundry.
I remind myself again, one day I'm going to blink and those socks and shirt will be on his own bathroom floor, not mine, the wearer will be taller than me and he might even be a world away where I cant snuggle him into bed every night.
Time passes and children grow. They grow old and we grow older.
I have to take the time to be with them now, while they are still home. When I can read to them that story I keep putting off because before you know it, they will be reading it to their own children.
Here is my grandma at 103 with Sarah.
She had 5 generations below her.
She was a great-great-great grandma.
She passed away last year.
We will miss you grandma.
Another January has rolled around.
I have had yet another birthday. It came even though I kept trying to find a way to just skip it.
Even though this year I got one of the best birthday presents I have had in a long while.
A new president. And a new hope that what has been going on in this country will be turned around and we can once again feel good about being Americans. Not embarrassed and somehow responsible for the past 8 years even though it wasn't my vote that got us into this mess in the first place.
But either way, I feel a joyful and heart swelling rush that we are on a better track. A track that will lead us to a future that we can feel good about for our kids.
Now that I am all of 44, I feel like I have lived so much longer than the sum of those years.
I think I am getting soft in my old age, nostalgic.
I look at my kids and wonder where did THEY come from? Who are these adults that have their own lives, their own beliefs, and their own path that I don't have a say in anymore?
My oldest three have become their own people and I hope that I have given them what they need to make it in this world. They are each so different, so vibrant, so independent.
Each with goals and dreams for the future that are uniquely their own. Busy with their own life, I don't get to see them as much as I would hope, but having the younger 3 still under my wing it takes some of the sting out of that.
My oldest has moved a state away and I haven't seen him in over a year. We talk on the phone but that isn't really the same. I miss seeing him, seeing his smile and hearing his goofy laugh. He was my baby. Bald, often cranky and absolutely adorable. Now he is tall, handsome and going to be a daddy.
I know that has not sunk in yet. Because if he is going to be a daddy than I am going to be a grandma.
Grandmas are old people who sit in rocking chairs and knit and have gray hair pulled up into a bun and wear tiny little glasses on the end of their nose.
Being that I do not fit that bill I cannot possibly be a grandma. There that settles that. I feel better now.
I still have vivid memories of removing a stuffed Big Bird out of a puddle of water on the bathroom counter one night 18 years ago, trying to soak his fuzzy yellow butt in a towel so he didn't drip all over the floor. As I was grousing about the lack of care they were showing for their belongings, it occurred to me that one day Big Bird wouldn't be on my bathroom counter and the perpetrators would not be asleep in the other room cuddled up asleep with Monkey and Hippo.
And so it has come to pass.
But now when I go into the bathroom I am greeted by 2 pairs of socks and a discarded button down shirt. All removed for comfort by the wearer before engaging in bathroom activities. This is a daily sight, no matter how many times I tell him to put his stuff in the laundry.
I remind myself again, one day I'm going to blink and those socks and shirt will be on his own bathroom floor, not mine, the wearer will be taller than me and he might even be a world away where I cant snuggle him into bed every night.
Time passes and children grow. They grow old and we grow older.
I have to take the time to be with them now, while they are still home. When I can read to them that story I keep putting off because before you know it, they will be reading it to their own children.
Here is my grandma at 103 with Sarah.
She had 5 generations below her.
She was a great-great-great grandma.
She passed away last year.
We will miss you grandma.
