I am hours from a hormonal surge, I am 18 days from turning 30, I am 3 weeks from being the parent of a 3 year old, and kindergarten is only a few months away.
Everything is changing.
30 isn't coming easy.
My skin is awful, my body is shameful, my hair is thin, I still have not gone back to school, or built our forever-home, nor have I mastered making 3 full course meals, or have money lying around waiting on an endless shopping spree.
The lines between eyebrows are deep, I am wearing a size bigger than I was this time last year, I barely drag myself to pour cereal for my kids each morning... (and they sleep until 8:30 or 9:00) and I can not start my engine without coffee in my veins.
I am blessed to stay home but that comes with a cost, as I budget every dollar we spend.
I know my blessings-- and 30 may not being easy, but I am not drowning.
I guess I expected this stuff. And though I am writing it down, I am honestly not dwelling on it.
I do find a little anxiety within myself when realizing that chapter of life geared for birthing babies is slimming.
I do think there was a lot I should have done before 30.
But probably also before 20.
And I am sure I'll feel the same about 40.
Good grief Holly... one decade at a time.
It is just change. And everything changes.
What can I do about it?
Beckham turning three stings a little.
I loved two. The even years have been my favorites actually.
To me, Beckham's still an infant.
It doesn't help that Maddox spoke like a 7 year old at B's age-- so I always treated him older than he deserved. And maybe for opposite reasons, I have treated B younger than his.
He talks so well now though.
And yet he still needs me like oxygen.
But he is changing.
Completely transforming, every day into a bigger boy.
Within the last month, he completely broke out of his shell.
He went from the boy who would have been missed in a crowd without a headcount, to talking to anyone and everyone about anything and everything.
He is pretty much over his Mickey Mouse craze.
Now he is more into dogs and the color red and legos.
He loves to be outside and would ride his 'poe willa' until the wheels fell off.
He is rough and tough and brave and adventurous. And doesn't mind playing alone some too.
He has a little maternal streak, usually toting a stuffed animal-- and yet he takes being called a "good little momma", very offensive.
He pays attention to details... like by asking me to fix his hair like Chase from Paw Patrol, "sticking up in da prunt" or asking what I thought about his baby's eyes, that were "sad and down."
He is a busy bee, always thinking and creating. He finds sticks to create a trailer hitch so that he can pull his trailer, and builds submarines out of Legos as a shadow to Maddox.
He adores Maddox.
And I hope he always will.
Tonight at practice, B asked if he could go kiss Maddox.
I said no.
But before I could blink, Beckham was standing on first base with puckered lips and Maddox didn't miss a beat.
He leaned down and kissed him and said, "go back to momma."
As B was running back, he yelled, "I love you bubba!" and Maddox yelled back, "I love you too." and then B yelled, "You're my bess prin" and Maddox said, "you're my best friend too."
The 2 moms by me instantly melted, and I immediately froze worrying that Maddox was going to be teased.
A kid told him last week that it was weird that he kissed B.
And maybe it is...
or will be,
next year when he is a kindergartner,
When everything changes.
Never have I felt the need to freeze time as I do now.
It is almost a panic.
It is all changing.
And I can not stop it.
They wake up each day with only one goal.
No homework or tests or teasing from classmates or missing me or schedules...
We get dirty.
And we do it well.
We are together-- the entire day-- and its so good here.
I feel like I am good at this job. At least decent. Finally... after working so hard to claim that.
But it is changing.
Beckham has no idea that he is about to lose Maddox to friends outside of this place.
And I fear Maddox will lose his quirks to those same things.
Maddox doesn't know how to reform to the mold that the world has built for him-- and he is my child who I fear will.
He is such a people pleaser-- and he hates to disappoint.
He wants to do well, and needs you to care.
He is soft. And compassionate. And quirky. And goofy. And mine.
I am biting my nails as I watch him cross that line into this huge change.
I know there are exciting things waiting for us behind the doors of the elementary school--
but I am resistant.
As I always have.
And probably always will...
Now on to what we have been doing.
That thankfully, doesn't change.