Well, its official. I'm a full-fledged soccer mom. Not actual soccer but various other activities are eating up my days. And for a home-body like myself this is a big deal. I pride myself on my ability to get everything that needs to be done in as few trips out as possible. But now I'm all over the place every day of the week. Well, mentally I'm no stranger to wandering, but my physical location is usually pretty steady. Look out, my insanity is now on the move. Maybe I should get one of those yellow warning triangle signs "Beware: Crazy Soccer Mom at the wheel" oh brother. . .
Anyway, today was swim day. And Beauty Queen had her first lesson. A promise I made as a reward to successful potty training. And Hallelujah! She did it a couple months ago! Diapers are officially a thing of the past. Whew. I used to dream about this day.
Oh, I forgot to mention - I decided to give all the characters in my life and that I will be writing about in this blog - cyber names. More because I've been lurking around other blogs and notice its a trend then for security reasons. Seeing as how I've referred to everyone by name in the past I don't know that it will do much good, but I do think its cute so I'm contributing my own silly cast.
My oldest child will be dubbed "The Negotiator" because he's a five year old who can close a deal like a seasoned pro.
My middle boy is "Moose." We've called him that since he was an infant and it just fits him. He's so cute I could eat 'im!
My daughter, because she is concerned with all things girly and beautiful is my little "Beauty Queen." Long hair, sparkly jewelry and dresses are her business.
And my dear husband shall now be referred to as "Sgt" - a former Marine, I usually call him by our last name but that would defeat the purpose here.
All other family will receive their new names as they come up in my postings.
As I was saying . . . Beauty Queen had her first lesson today. And as I was watching her I was struck at how big she is getting. Now, anyone who has known me since I had her knows that I've never been that sentimental or sad to see them growing up. Mostly because when you spend most of your life exhausted you don't mind the thought of a future where the people in your life don't need you to wipe their butt or keep them from choking or spoon feed them or lug their endless amount of crap everywhere. In fact you even begin to live for that point in time where a night of interrupted sleep from crying babies is rare and car seats don't rule your life (and change your personality from the frustration of installation). But as I was watching, I experienced a strange emotion. At least to me. It was a little melancholy and sad. It hit me completely unexpected and it hurt. My youngest isn't a baby anymore. I don't have a baby anymore. I made it. I survived these early years. And though it was wonderful and filled and overflowing with unexplainable joy it has also shown me depths of myself I didn't before know or care to know - those places of anxiety and depression, guilt and self-doubt, over-flowing impatience and selfishness - and yet I found myself a little sad to know its behind me. Why? What is that? Before kids I thought quite highly of myself. Yeah, I was human and made mistakes like all other humans but overall I was pretty good. But now I know. Now I know that there is sin and dark, dark ugliness in me just under the surface. If motherhood has taught me one thing its that I absolutely need Jesus. That woman that I met in the middle of the night after thirty minutes of sleep and meeting the constant stream of needs being literally screamed at her could not have found it in her to nurture anyone without the love of Christ. Maybe that's why. Maybe I miss it because what happened in those days was important. The worries and fatigue passed but the bonds with my children started with those hard moments and my understanding of Grace really began. And I have a feeling it will become even more precious as the years go by.
So goodbye Diaper Age. My heart can't help but remember you fondly and with strange longing.