Saturday, December 26, 2015

For me

I was going to go back and remove old posts since this blog is terribly outdated but I'm not. I don't really care about the old posts. They all applied to whatever was happening in my life at the time and they can stay. I'm pretty sure nobody actually reads this and that's okay too. I just like to write. I like to write about all the things rattling around in my head that don't always make sense. I like to write about the random things my kids say, the things I wish I could say but don't, the good and the bad. I just like to write. I may not do it well, I may not be a facebook internet sensation and I may be the only one that reads any of it...but that's okay.

Here, this is my place. This is the place where I can just do or say whatever I want and I'm not answering anyone. I'm not out to impress anyone, I'm not worrying that someone will judge me. If they do, too bad, get out of my space.

My space.

Just me.

Me and many stories about my kids and my husband because let's face it. I can only write so much about myself without them. Me, Myself, and I. We're not all that entertaining and even though it's just me here, I still like to be entertained.


Thirteen

It's Christmas night.

Thirteen years ago was my due date with Aiden. I had just turned 22 and even though I was going to have a baby any day, I still knew nothing. I did know that he (although at the time I didn't even know he was a he!) wasn't coming that night. Call it mother's intuition or call it just being stubborn, I had plans and we were following through. We spent the morning with my parents and then headed to see Jared's family. It was snowing but it was only a 45 minute drive and we were staying over. No big deal. Both sides tried to convince us that we shouldn't go but we did anyway and it's a good thing since Aiden decided to wait another 2 weeks before making is grand entrance in to the world.

Now...now it's Christmas night 2015 and I'm sitting here going through a baby book, looking at pictures of the day my now almost teenager was born. I.have.a.teen.ager. Let that sink in.

I. Have. A. Teen. Ager. Well, in 2 weeks I will.


I just turned 35 last month and I had a really hard time with it. I didn't think I would. 25 was fine, 30 was easy...but 35? Fuck, 35 was rough. I can't say why exactly, maybe it's because I knew that it wasn't just a milestone for me. If I'm getting older these little humans that live with me and depend on me are getting older too.

So here I am. I'd love to say that I'm 35 and I'm in the best shape of my life and exactly where I'm supposed to be. You know, one of those uplifting posts that gets shared all over facebook. The truth is, I'm probably in the worst shape of my life, I'm kind of in this weird place where I'm just not sure what I'm doing and damnit, my kids are growing up too damn fast!

Thirteen years ago I didn't know much and I didn't think much beyond getting through the whole birth part of having a baby. Now...now I still don't know much but all I think about are the what ifs, the am I doing this whole parenting thing right, the questions...endless questions about what the hell I am doing in this big bad world of trying to help raise respectable young men while at the same time wanting them to be themselves. That shit is scary. Teenagers are scary!

For the next few weeks if you see me randomly tear up...or if I seem to be drinking even more wine than usual, you'll know why.

In the meantime...I have an epic birthday party that needs to be planned. Thirteen is big...and as such, must be celebrated to the fullest extent of my ability. And my wallet.