I’ve been 29 for 6 years


When I was twenty three, I married El Senor. I also had Baby Gurl eight months later. Due to complications she came five weeks early. I’m not really sure why, but over the next few years, I could not remember how old I was. I broke my ankle when I was twenty five. At the immediate care, (That’s a story for another day, maybe a venting day) the nurse asked me how old I was, I said twenty three. El Senor looked at me and said, “No you’re not!” I swore I was, then did the math and sure enough, twenty five.

I have a birthday coming up. I’ll admit, I’m not looking forward to it. I make the joke when people I barely know are rude enough to ask how old I am, I’ll say, “I’m twenty nine. . . And I’ve been twenty nine for six years.” They laugh and I cringe. Why do we rush the years when we are younger dreaming of the day we will be the grown up, and then once the day arrives, we dread it and want to turn back time.  It’s because even though childhood is fun, it’s not freedom. Adult hood is freedom, but with responsibilities. I think we really spend much of our time wishing for another time, when what we really should do is just be. Be in that moment. I should enjoy my few gray hairs, it’s not like they are going to go away, in fact they are going to grow friends. I should appreciate my few smile lines. After all I’ve earned them from having a life of laughter and happiness. And those “Frown lines” aren’t frown lines at all, but rather concentration lines.

That being said, I wouldn’t trade this past year for a hundred years as twenty nine. I’ve grown in so many ways that I didn’t believe was possible. I’ve received clarity, and am finding my way. With growing and clarity comes the aches and pains associated with such change. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, and that’s OK. I do know more changes are on the horizon. I look forward to 2014.

In Passing (A Poem)


In Passing.

Lying in bed, pretending to sleep,

So I can hear the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Driving on a dark road with my hand wrapped in yours,

Just so I can feel you close.

Touching your hair, tracing your face,

Memorizing everything there is about you,

In passing.

These are the simple things I hold on to.

These are the moments I need

To get me through the coming days.

Remembering where we sometimes are,

In passing.

Laughing while you cook and I wash the dishes,

Flirting with brushed touches and gentle jabs.

Slow dancing in the living room when no one is looking,

Sneaking pecks of kisses in between the turns.

Looking into your smiling eyes, feeling content.

But it only stays long enough to remind me,

It’s in passing.

Observations


An eighteen hour drivers probably too much time to spend inside my brain. As I drove while my family slept and listened as my children talked when El Señor drove I made a few silent observations that made me both smile and sigh contently. This post may be more for myself later to look back on as I’m bundled up on a cold Indiana winter day, when I miss summer, my kids because they’re in school, or whatever irritations winter brings because there are plenty.
I digress. Here are my vacation observations. They may not mean as much to you but hopefully you’ll laugh too.

1. I don’t understand why Tennessee welcomes you to it as your heading south on 24 and have been in the state for two hours. I mean I get it if you go out of the state for a few miles and come back in but where is the welcome sign at the Kentucky/Tennessee border. That’s the accomplishment. That’s when it matters when you’re like am I in in Kentucky or Tennessee? In the middle of the night state lines are accomplishments.

2. Don’t beat yourself up when you realize five hundred miles in that you forgot something even if it’s important. I forgot my protein shakes, workout mix drink, and soap. But I remembered UNDERWEAR. Hooray for me! I’m on vacation. Besides I’m sure they’ll have a vitamin shop somewhere near me.

3. I should have confiscated his the kazoo.

4. Lilman: Does it ALWAYS rain in Florida?
Me: five minutes at a time, yes it does.

5. The highway is full of migraters. And people will pack their cars up every which way. There’s the tarped luggageon the roof rack, which was our method last year. Trash bag covered, gimpy hard covers and perfectly packed travelers. I say get yours however you can. And make it count.

6. I love watching my little ones be kind to each other. They don’t have the distractions of other friends and Internet. So they talk and hug on each other. It might be my favorite.

7. That damn kazoo!

8. The farthest plate I’ve seen is Arizona. El señor: Ontario.

9. I still don’t mind driving through the mountains. I still mind driving through Atlanta.

10. Me: I’m hongrier than. A hostage.
Lilman: how do you know how much an ostrich can eat?
Kids are funniest when they don’t intend to be and when you least suspect it.
11. Faded Mohawk-mullets are popular in Florida this season.
I don’t get it.
12. Sometimes a salt-water pool is better than the ocean.