My baby turned 3 and I turned 35. We celebrated by taking a trip to Pella for 'Tulip Time' after my oldest's baseball game for our "real birthdays" and had a party for Griff yesterday with family and lots and lots of food. Again, I am smacked in the face by how quickly time flies~~and I have to admit, I AM starting to feel much older as this 30's venue continues to play out...
Midlife crisis? Perhaps. I have been WANTING another baby desperately for the past few years (while everyone around us seems to be populating a small island) and I think my body has made up for the lack of the desired pregnancy by creating a food belly. 17 pairs of pants retired to the basement. I was shocked to find that not a single pair of shorts or carpi's from last summer would even button. Depressing. Don't even get me started on my swimsuits. Couldn't even get them much farther than my knees. I blame the eight month hiatus from running--just starting to get back into it now--and the general dismissal of healthy foods from my diet. I'm finding I just don't care anymore. I really don't. And now I'm paying for it, and over 20 pounds later in one year--I have to care...
Metabolism--apparently is slows down with age. Went to get my driver's license renewed (with the full knowledge that the next 5 years will surely fly by as fast as the previous) and had to laugh when my previous weight was read to me (height and weight the same?). I thought I was fat then. I've always thought I was fat. Nothing like not a single stitch of your clothing fitting you to pound (no pun intended) the point home--I really need to start caring.
Maybe it's my depression. That seems to be the root to most of my "issues". Such irony, really, that someone who has such a wonderfully blessed life should struggle with something so annoying and ugly. It's another "thing" I absolutely HATE about myself. I have a great husband, the MOST amazing kids, a wonderful family, friends, home, a job, health--and yet it takes everything in my will power to climb out of bed in the morning (and a few bottles of prescribed pharmaceuticals). Jogging is helping some. Nothing like natural endorphins. But I can't stand that I have to try so damn hard just to make it through a day. I would, most days, rather not... and there is really just no rational reason for it. I have never slept well. Growing up, I had every reason not to. Now, I'm just left with the nightmares (and the anti anxiety meds to numb them)--but then I worry about getting addicted to my medication, so I don't take it all the time. Classic catch 22, eh? Although, if anyone stops to think of the state of affairs of this great earth of ours for a mere five minutes, you might join me. It's really not pretty...
So, I fight anxiety, worry, fear of that other proverbial shoe (in my case the steal toed, heavily weighted Doc Martin variety) to drop, and the general melase and melancholy that have seemed to surround my life for as long as I can remember--get up and get going for the day. I hate leaving my family and the security of my home for anything. If it was up to me, my boys and I would be together always. Marty could join us too (smile).
But 35.... yeah... My "age" has never hit me before--and maybe it's because my body's not keeping up. I feel like I'm falling behind, slowing down...
And my baby is 3... again, never been so sad to see a year go. 3 is ever so much bigger than 2. A baby no more. Not even close. Our pediatrician calls 3 "challenging". I call it the start of being a boy and not a toddler and I don't like it. My last baby. And Max? I'm going to have a nine year old soon! Are you kidding me? NINE! Wow. How the heck did that happen!?!
Looking through photo albums (I'm a picture freak, so we have a lot~I know I'll have them to hold on to when my two little guys leave the nest) I'm always comforted and saddened at the same time. We've had so much fun together. So many great times. I remember half of them (wink)--as life is just so busy. I tell myself to live in the moment, to savor and enjoy--not worry about what's next--and then it's gone...
And here we are. Just wanting to freeze time. No more "growing up" for any of us. And yes, I know there are more great times ahead. I just wish we could slow down a bit and cut back on all those activities on our calendars--not a blank box in the bunch of days that make up our months. But, the bills have to be paid and there are games to be played, lessons to learn, celebrations to share... And I get frustrated at myself for tiring so easily. Wishing I could get better at catching my breath between it all.
So very thankful for the miracle of this life that God has blessed me with. If you had asked me 20 or more years ago what was in store for me, I would never have imagined something this beautiful--truly--I know God exists for this reason alone.
So I remain a work in progress--just as much as my kiddos. And my heavenly Father isn't through with me yet. It's not about a number on a scale or what I can and can not do. It's about enjoying and being thankful for the breaths we are given (even when we're struggling to get them ;)). And no one's perfect, and He certainly doesn't expect us to be. One day at a time. As I blink and they're gone, I want to teach my children gratitude and thankfulness. But, they teach me more... Max thanks God EVERY single night during our prayers for dying on the cross for us and forgiving us our sins so that we can all be together forever in heaven. It never fails to tug at my heart and remind ME of all of God's great blessings--his sacrifice being the greatest. The reality of that is just mind blowing. Griff loves just about everything (but bedtime and pooping on the potty-smile), and his exuberance for life teaches me to find joy in the littlest of things. Where would I be without my children? I get out of bed because of them. I can't fail them. I won't fail them.
And my husband, although I miss him more than I see him, I thank God for him. He works SO hard to keep this family going. He daily amazes me...
Although I've never felt a change or dreaded my birthday--or my child's--until this year, it has given me an awareness of thankfulness. As my boys giggle in the bathtub (I'm sure the floor is completely covered in water and they are plastered in bubbles), my heart is happy. Even if my body is too tired to do elated jumping jacks...
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