My older son is working on his blog about differences he’s observing between eastern and western Germany, 20 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Meanwhile, my professor husband is updating his blog about sweeping changes taking place in the media industry.
Me? I’m indulging in a public pity party.
Recently I had a conversation with my friend Elizabeth, a much younger mom, who is juggling a toddler, a new baby and a full-time job, albeit one with a modicum of flexibility. She’s handling it all with grace and aplomb (and no those aren’t her kids’ names).
As the date of my 25x2 birthday approaches, I find myself reflecting (wallowing is more like it) in self-introspection.
I loathe self-introspection. Ask my dear friend Susan.
But I’m not going gently into that next stage or phase or whatever term you prefer.
I spent my thirties having babies and my forties losing (and gaining some back) the baby weight. In addition to working fulltime, writing and doing the whole route of church and school volunteerism (sometimes only a sentence fragment will do!).
As a new decade roars toward me, I stand on the precipice of change.
I love big sweeping change. Ask my husband. Get-used-to-small-things change like new glasses or even new shoes, not so much.
This passage has snuck up on me. I’m no longer the young mom juggling a dozen sticky-fingered balls in the air. Instead I’m an older mom who’s watching her children grow into these amazing near-adult-like creatures.
Maybe I’ll skip the pity party after all and start shopping for a whole lot of birthday candles.