Am I Old?

I broke down in tears yesterday.

At first I couldn't put my finger on it. I had been messaging with my oldest about high school. It's my 30-year class reunion coming up, and it's his 10-year class reunion. I had sent him a little message in the beginning saying, "Why would I want to go to my high school reunion when I didn't even want to go to high school in the first place?" We had a good giggle about it, talked about how horrible high school was for the both of us, then went about our days.

I had a birthday party for my youngest last weekend. The kid is now a teenager. My baby boy - a teenager. I almost can't wrap my head around it. Yeah, he's got the attitude down. But it's only 5 more years until he officially will reach adulthood. Wow.

And my beautiful daughter is married and planning a wedding that her loved ones can be at. Each day I have to remind myself that she is not a little girl sitting at a princess table doing a "project." This project that she's working on now is too big for that pink princess table.

So as I sat at the dining room table yesterday as Shawn was zooming around the kitchen, trying to get it cleaned up before making dinner, he asked if I was okay and I was just snapping at him. Finally, the waterworks started. He pulled up a chair beside me and held me. I ended up wailing, "I'm old!" I told him my oldest has his 10-year high school reunion, my baby is 13, and my daughter is married. How does something like this happen?

Shawn held me and let me cry. He's always points out what awesome adults the older two are and how far Matthew has come. He points out how much my kids love me and how much I love them. But last night, I guess I just needed to cry over the fact that I'm feeling old and not as needed anymore.

My babies are not babies anymore. But they'll always be my babies.




I love those kids.

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