Thirty is strange. Just a number. I think not. I feel like an adult now. I have revisited my past and am in my dreams of young. I just wanted a family. That is it. I am there. And I often shake my head when I stop to think about it. That happened fast.
All around me adult occurrences are happening. Marriage problems, nervous breakdowns, abuse, death. It is all strange. But not damning. It's fascinating to me. The pushes for people to be more than they are being. The devastation that comes before people turn back to God...or to God.
I am in a good change. I am making new dreams for myself. I certainly don't want to start over again- I want to build onto life now. I am going to write a book. I have started in fact. I did have a few ideas but they involve other input that I need to wait for. I found an idea the other night when I should have been getting ready....staring into the bathroom mirror.
I need a kick of energy to match my ambition. I still need to make up Keiran's first year scrapbook, make his toddler quilt, dream up a family wall hanging for the bare curtain rod hanging on my wall (left from Christmas), and make a baby blanket for my new little baby relative to arrive next month. Eeek. Baby's make me so excited. Then there's that. Maybe in the midst of these things I can make myself get back into shape and try this new Tupler Technique to fix my baby tummy...just in time to have another baby, if we decide to. I dunno. Much to think about. Much to dream about. Much to hope for.
I still see you with four little ones crowded around you. Somehow you are a mother of four in my mind. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd I can't wait to read your book someday. Assuming that you aren't only writing it for personal reflection. ;)