I am the mom…
31 12 2005
… of two teenagers. Baby Girl came downstairs to birthday cake and presents, and the party commenced. Ever since we’ve been scrubbing through the house, getting ready for further festivities tonight– although we are going to have to disappoint all the kids (including the ones over 35) who love the annual illegal fireworks show (during which I always stand halfway between the show and the house, in case the cops come– someone would have to bail out the daddies).
Holy Moly. The babies are teens. The thing is, I love teenagers, so that part doesn’t phase me. What does is how fast the time goes (which I know is a completely banal thing to say, but it’s true so fuck it…). But to be exact, the time w/the babies hasn’t seemed to fly– it’s gone along in real time. I have been able to enjoy where they are, and don’t regret time passed.
What does seem to have whizzed by is my own time. I don’t feel any different than when I was twenty-two, or thirty-two (okay so yes maybe the body has settled slightly south, especially after the babies), but mentally I don’t feel any older. I was born old in some ways, then was the youngest child in my family, and my extended family, by a lot. You grow up quickly when always surrounded by people 4-40 years older than you. I’ve always said that the role of the youngest child (in a family of 3+ kids) is to shut up, put up, and keep up.
Quick self portrait– me now:
So I don’t LOOK any older!!???!? yeah, well, whatever. I really don’t want to be one of those annoying Mid-Life-Whiny-Butts in a few years, so I’d better get myself right on over it now.

Now the story of my bad yesterday: We took the babies out to use the gift certificates from the grands, and while at Tyler’s the husband and baby girl started hooting when they saw this t-shirt. The boy and I followed the hawkish sounds, and somehow the whole thing ended with the boy buying the shirt. Talk about a bad mama.
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