Motherhood

From the time I was little, I dreamed of being a mom. That's all I ever wanted - a husband and three children. We'd live in a big, fancy house; I'd be a model; my children would be an older boy and two younger girls; they'd all be close in age with blonde hair; (I had no clue what my husband did for a living); and we'd be oh, so happy. I didn't think much about what my husband would be like at the time, except I knew I'd wear a long veil at my wedding. I used to put my pillowcase on top of my head at my pretend wedding.

Life kind of ended up like that, but not so much. I have my husband. I have my three children. They're spaced so far out in age, though, due to multiple miscarriages and an ectopic pregnancy. They were all blonde at one point. As Bryan grew older, his hair gradually darkened into brown. But Tea and Matthew are still my little blondies. I had two boys instead of two girls. And I wouldn't change that. The children I have now are perfect.

Motherhood is hard, though. I am no spring chicken at 43. I'll be 44 in a few weeks. Matthew is turning 9 this year. I feel every minute of my age some days when he's having a hard day. When he's screaming because he wants more time on his iPad and I tell him no, or he has to take a shower and he HATES the shower so he's throwing a fit, I just want to put my hands up to my face and say, "Okay. Do what you want." But I don't. Because no matter how hard it is, I know that the time limit on the iPad is good for him. I know that he needs the shower. He needs the structure that I thought I would have an easier time providing in my 40s with him than I had in my 20s with the older kids.

There are pros and cons to having kids in your 20s vs having kids in your late 30s/early 40s. In your 20s, you have a heck of a lot more energy. In your 40s, if you're like me, you have a heck of a lot more patience. I didn't have much patience with my older kids. I learned it as I went along. I think they were preparing me for raising Matthew, because it takes a TON of patience. He talks about electronics obsessively, and he makes noises that would drive anybody insane. He watches the same thing over and over (which I guess is pretty typical for any kid), so we've seen the same episodes of iCarly and Victorious at least 30 times. Which, mind you, we already saw at least 40 times when Tea was younger. (You know what? I still enjoy those shows and will watch them even after Matthew is asleep and I'm on the computer or journaling.)

See how young we were? We were just babies ourselves!

Look at us here. We probably haven't changed that much in looks, I guess, just in how we feel.

I have a hard time believing that my kids are as old as they are, simply for the fact that I'll always be stuck at 29. The year I turned 29, I decided that I was going to repeat my 28th birthday. My 28th birthday was such a horrible one that I just wanted a redo. So I repeated the whole year. I skipped 29. Then I turned 30. For the past almost 14 years it's been a joke that I'm 29. I can never remember how old I am (I almost always have to do the math), so I'll just say I'm 29, because that's what I can remember. So how is it that I have a son that's 23? It's beyond me.

Enjoy your holiday if you're celebrating Labor Day. Until next week's dirt...