Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Birthday Blues

I have always loved March.  Especially the first week of March.  Basketball season is at it's peak, there's that fun rivalry of Duke and Carolina, in college it was always the week we were out on Spring Break, and for my whole life it's the week of my birthday!  This year as my birthday approaches, I'm less than excited.  I'm not an overly sentimental person, but I'm pretty emotional about bidding farewell to my twenties.

This all sneaked up on me this weekend.  The weather was yucky, I was doing the massive amounts of laundry from snowy day layers, to Anna's 2,341 wardrobe changes a day. Somehow in the bottom of the laundry there was a tiny little onesie that probably hasn't fit either baby in years, which says a lot since the babies are only two & three.  I held it in my hands.  I'm not one of those moms that boo hoo's when packing away the clothes that the little ones have outgrown.  In fact, I love it.  I love making room for new stuff and getting rid of the old stuff.  But this day, I looked at it, almost in disbelief.  Somehow, I used to have a person that was that tiny and I managed to keep it alive until it was no longer so tiny, twice.  Holy guacamole.

I thought when I was home with a newborn and a one year old, life wouldn't get any harder.  I was wrong.  If you've asked me at any point within the last few weeks, I've told you, all I want for my birthday is a couple hours to forget it's my birthday and forget about being responsible.  I'm pretty sure that a whiny brat has taken over the body of my near 4 year old, and I'm convinced that my other child may need to see an exorcist.  I wake up in the morning and my body wants to jump out of bed, but my head is saying, "Do I really have to get up?  You're going to have to dress the child who likes none of her clothes and will flail around, hiss, hit, and scream.  Not to mention, said child is going to have to ride in her carseat, which she also has a strong aversion to."  I roll over for a few more minutes to wallow in the dread of it all.

I'm not even 100% why I have this gray cloud hanging out above me, I have everything I've ever wanted.  If I could have planned my life, it's even better than my plan.  I have a husband who is supportive and loving.  Two little girls who are beautiful, creative, and witty.  A son, while not mine by birth, is as much my child as his sisters.  We have a home full of laughter.  I work at a job that never feels like work, that I get to have fun and do what I love, teach and learn and be around 28 of the best kids all day.  But as my birthday approaches, I still get a little sad.  I've pretty much met all the 5 year plans I've laid out, but I have no idea what I want just for me personally in the next 5, the next 10.  The day I got married, my priorities changed. I had two other people's needs I put before mine.  The day I became mommy, I had a tiny person who depended on me for every single most basic need.  When all of this happened, I changed.  I would say I lost a bit of me, but that's not true. That old me evolved.  And she's so much more giving and loving and caring.....and tired and exhausted....and old.

This weekend as I held that tiny little onesie, I thought about the changes this decade has brought.  At twenty, I celebrated my birthday with the sweetest girls in Gray Hall.  We may not have had {legal} air conditioner (it's a fun story-my roommate and I had a rolling a/c unit that certainly wasn't to code--but our room was the coolest, literally), but we had so much fun.  The past few years, I've had joint dinners with a little boy whose birthday is a week before mine.  Life has changed so quickly.  While I feel so fortunate for this life, I miss those carefree days, and I'm not sure I truly appreciated them at the time.

I think my recent exhaustion from the constant crying, all out tantrums and being stuck inside for the last 2 weeks thanks to winter has majorly attributed to my birthday blues.  I've always loved my birthday.  I'm an outspoken, first born, lover of attention after all.  But once my girls were born, being the center of attention, isn't really for me anymore.  I couldn't be more happy to share the spotlight.  I still love birthdays, just not mine as much.  When life held a lot of uncertainty for me, and I was unsure of the path I was supposed to take, I would repeat my favorite Bible verse in my head (Jer. 29:11) and all seemed right with the world.  Tonight as I'm holding on to twenty-nine for a couple more days, I think about that verse again.  It still rings true now, as it did then. Makes my birthday blues...seem less blue.


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