Dylan drew a family picture last night. It was of Julia, me and himself. He couldn't fit Daddy because he "ran out of room." And above each person he wrote their age.
Julia 1, Dylan 4, and Mommy....30.
When I turned 30 I had just had Dylan and was deep in the throes of no sleep. It passed without much fanfare. A little birthday blip of over the hill jokes and "now you're an adult" comments.
Four years later, I still don't feel like a grown up.
Partly, because of where we are in life. Living with parents, husband still in school, no money. Partly, because I think my vision of myself is warped by my tv consumption of Jersey Shore and the Real World.
But then I look at my Kiddos and remember....OH, I'm a MOTHER. I'm a mother of TWO.
I'm raising humans.
And I realize that to them, I must be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO old. I must appear to have all the answers because I'm always explaining things like how your body digests food, what gravity is, how human's evolved from monkeys. And I make them do things like clean up their rooms, wash their ears, say please and thank you.
I AM a grown up. Who would have thunk it?
No comments:
Post a Comment