In a few days I’m turning 35 and yes, I know that age is just a number and all that jazz but truth be told, at some point, we believe age does matter. We go through quarter-life crises (because really how many have you had in your 20s?) and midlife ones and whatever other problems we attribute to worrying because of how old we already are.
For me, it is mostly a matter of timing, more than time. I realize it’s been three years and then some since I had a “career,” since I was more than “just” wife and mom. For some women, those three years are just a blip, but for the me that I used to be, it feels like a lifetime. I’ve had friends tell me, they would not have expected me to make the decision to be a stay at home mom. I always told myself that I would build a successful career along with a wonderful family to boot. Piece of cake. I am and have always been a planner. I like to be in control of things. But as I was going through a difficult pregnancy and was abruptly forced to take a break from work and be on bed rest, I didn’t realize how much I was willing to sacrifice. I always used to say a particular film project was my baby, and that you give so much of yourself for art– because that’s what it takes to get it done.
Yet you give so much more for your family, particularly your child, because at the end of the day, as you watch that little human grow up, it will, without a doubt, BE WORTH IT. I often forget, to be honest, how precious this time is, how blessed I am to be able to witness every moment of Cobie growing up, how many parents would give up anything for this. I often forget to appreciate how much of a privilege it is to be with my son at a time when he still wants to spend time with me. When he wakes up and you see that sparkle as he recognizes Mommy’s face first thing in the morning, when he surprises you with an I love you in the middle of the day just because he wants to, when you are able to make everything better with a hug and have him bring courage and love with him, all with a “kissing hand”—those moments are what count.
Soon enough, like my little one, who will be going to school every single day this coming school year, and not the three times a week he spends away from Mommy, the three hours daily will become a whole day and then weeks and who knows how often we will get to spend time with them when they are all grown up.
So why this, why now? Why not? Maybe it’s perfect timing as I reach my mid-thirties and there’s a lot to be said why then. Perhaps God is working his way by giving me a little push to work on this blog in the form of a friend’s business offer.
Why even do this blog site? Why even write? I always fear that I will forget this time with my little one, with my family. Maybe so I can always read back and remember. Maybe so that one day, my son will read how much I love him on a dark day when he will need it most but is too “big” already to run to Mommy. I hope he will never forget that once, he said he will always be Mommy’s baby.
These days there’s so much forgetting. There’s too little time for everything. As my 35th birthday looms near, I feel rushed. Maybe that has nothing to do with why I’m writing this now. Perhaps it has everything to do with why I’m starting a blog site.
Or maybe it’s just fate, telling me it’s just time.