Wait, I’m How Old?
It’s perfectly fine to ask yourself that. As my 34th birthday approaches (at a suffocating speed, y’all. 4 days left), I can’t help but feel a little bit like… what? Who am I? Am I old now? Where did I go and how did this 30-something chauffeur to kids and more kids get in my mirror? Are those grey hairs (yes)?! Is that a line on my face (yes)?! Am I really OLD?!
Lord, have mercy.
Growing old is hard. Realizing you’re getting older is harder. Well, I thought it was going to be hard. In some ways it has been. Not that 33 (what, I still have 4 days!!) is old. But I definitely feel like it sometimes. Mom-ing will age you, I promise. I’m still fun though. Right?
I became a mom at such a young age. Two weeks before my 20th birthday, to be exact. Surprise! I was scared to death. Olivia and I have sort of grown up together. Don’t get me wrong, I am her mother, in every sense of the word. But as she has matured, so have I. Or, maybe I’m regressing? haha not really. Something I swore I would never be was that mom who wants to hang out and party with her kids, buy her kids alcohol, dress like her kids do, try to be ‘the cool mom.’ I have such an aversion to this that Olivia will cut me off when I’m talking to tell me “I know you’re not my friend, mom.” Damn straight I’m not, kid. I’m here to raise you with morals and self respect and strength and dignity. To love you and nurture you and keep you safe so you can fail on your own in a safe environment where you can learn the hard lessons, with support from your Daddy and me.
Now that I have that out of the way. Olivia is probably like, my best friend. I don’t mean that like you think, though. There is no one on the planet I would rather talk to or spend time with than my kids. I love taking them to do fun things, hiking, shopping, reading together, driving them all over creation to their activities and yelling at them (or whispering, YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL WE GET HOME the same way my dad did to me and my siblings) when they’re actin’ a fool.
Mom-ing is hard and stressful, but oh boy, do I love it.
As a young mother, I definitely felt like I was missing out on things. I was super lucky to be able to have my parents and grandparents around for help and support. There was no shortage of ‘young 20s’ nights and weekends out for me… but I did miss out on the whole go off to college, party your heart out, intern somewhere cool and shave your head part. Thankful for that, because I would not look good with a shaved head.
I was also super stupid. Like, I was so afraid of disappointing people in my early and even late 20s that I would just mirror myself to those close to me. Husband’s a republican? Shoot, me too! Oh, he’s on deployment and my bestie is rallying for Obama? Hey, I’m right there with you! The cool cats like that weird ass hipster cafe where everything tastes like dirt and sprouts? Meeeee tooooo.
Mom called, you posted a dirty word on your social media. *DELETES IMMEDIATELY* … I still do this. I typed AF on something the other day and my momma promptly texted me to let me know I needed to delete it. LOLzz wonder if she will after this post is published? Sorry, Mom. I love you. I want to be just like you.
Now that I’m in my 30-somethings, I have spent a lot more time trying to find myself and who it is that I actually want to be (or who I already am??). Obviously first, I’m a wife and mother. Thank you Lord for that. My husband is my best friend, my biggest cheerleader, my one and only, the person I can confide in and struggle in front of (especially when we’re running, because I hate running, and he runs beside me and I’m so mean to him, and he pushes me to the finish line anyway… with a big sweaty smile on his face). Outside of that, who am I? Something I ask myself a lot.
I am kind of very silly. I am super sassy and probably you think way too snarky if you don’t know me & you happen to overhear one of my conversations. Shout out to my friends who get me.
I love boat beer. That’s beer with lime and salt that you’d take on a boat or buy in Mexico. I’m lazy AF and watch the Office over and over and over and over on Netflix. I care about humanity to the point it hurts inside and I’m learning that some people just don’t… and it is totally fine if they don’t want to be a part of my life anymore. Each person you meet is there to serve a purpose, to teach you a lesson.
I am thankful for those lessons.
Self help books are stacked on my night stand. Crystals, angel cards, the book of common prayer, a daily devotional, mala beads. Got it all. Use it all. Feel silly about all of it. I keep digging deeper to find my zen and be the light.
My hair changes colors more than you change your bed sheets. It is blue currently and I’m crazy over it. I just got my nose pierced (for the 4th time) and I have 10 tattoos (dying for more, anyone want to like, talk my husband into believing I’ll still be hot with a sleeve when we’re 80?).
My attention span isn’t the longest and I have zero Z E R O desire to work for someone else. Can’t deal with that, having someone tell me what to do, I hate it. I am also terrified of confrontation so I probably won’t tell you when I hate something you’re doing, but I might call my BFF and have her drop a hint.
All my best friends, including my husband, are Type-A (for asshole). Yup, I’m the biggest B (for beta) ever.
Drake is my absolute favorite artist in the entire world and my dog is named after him.
All I want in life is to raise my kids, kick them the crap outta my house, sell everything I own, and go travel the world with my husband. I had six majors in college. After 10 years I finally graduated with a bachelors in communication studies last spring. Not going to lie, college was a waste of my time.
I’m working on my personal training certification right now. I want to help people feel comfortable in their bodies and be their best selves. I’m a certified holistic health practitioner with a focus in holistic nutrition. Except I count macros so I can eat a candy bar whenever I want and still fit in my clothes. Which currently don’t fit because I just started counting my macros again because I’m tired of being a weenie about life.
We only get one chance on this planet and I’m tired of trying to live my chance trying to please others. This means my hair will stay blue, I won’t be afraid to voice my opinions anymore (at least from the safety of my twitter account).
I think so far, I’m doing a pretty rad job being a 30 something mom. I have a crew of super strong women around me, and for them I’ll always strive to be a better person. I live for my kids, like a mom should.. but they’re getting older and it is time for me to start living for myself, too.
In a healthy, not-the-cool-mom kind of way.