Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future...
There's definitely a Steve Miller Band soundtrack playing in the background of my life.
Our oldest is now eleven. 11. One-ty one. It looks old no matter how I write it or how they say it.
And let's not even talk about how thirty-six looks. The common consensus around here is that it looks gray and washed out and puffy.
But despite that, I am very happy with life as I know it. Almost my entire life (all 36 years...see? It doesn't look any younger that way) I've felt like a little girl waiting to grow up.
And all of the sudden, I'm watching my own offspring grow up around me. I find that I know how to plan meals, learning is actually occurring in a systematic, planned fashion, and children are thriving on more than my good intentions.
I feel like a grown-up.
There's nothing earth-shattering or especially insightful about any of this.
I just find that I am thinking less and less about *me* and more and more about *them*. I wonder how they will change the world and marvel at how they have restructured mine.
I feel so sorry for those who choose selfishness over children. I mean exactly that. There are those who choose to not have children in order to pursue their own selves.
This is stupid, and it is so misled. The greatest gift you can give yourself is the gift of parenthood. It challenges you, it changes you, it rewards you a hundredfold.
Sometimes the gifts are subtle. You realize that you have been changing diapers every day for the past 11+ years, and that it doesn't bother you. Score 1 for the adult (or "a dolt," as my children say it).
Sometimes the gifts are obvious. A spontaneous offer to rub your feet or a first drawing that looks like a potato with stick feet ("It's you, Mama!!").
Sometimes you realize that this: this welling up of emotion at Mama Potato-head is in itself a treasure, and there you have it.
Sometimes the gifts seem to further your sanctification. Sometimes they seem to question it.
But make no mistake: these children are invaluable. Gifts themselves, they are priceless.
Promotion of self? I've done you nine better. You can go out the front door, and don't trip on the bikes on your way.
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