The Land Between Zits and Wrinkles

Six years ago today I was laying in a hospital bed with a glorious morphine drip in one arm and an even more wonderful 9 pound 9 ounce bundle of joys in my other arm. Ezra. My life is completely different because he exists. And even as this day winds down I cannot believe it has been six years since he was born. He is smart and funny and witty and like his dad in so many ways (some of which I appreciate, some of which I don't). I still refer to him as the baby when speaking to people about him sometimes, even though I also refer to Elisha as the baby. To me he is still that little bundle in my arms, and I often put him there, though he has outgrown the space. He still isn't quite yet old enough to know that it isn't cool to lavish affection on your mother, but I know that just like today, his sixth birthday, that day will come, and I am sure that I will mourn that moment. I have given a lot of thought today about what it means about me thyat I have a six year old child. I alternate between feeling like a grouchy old lady and a high school girl who mistakenly got dropped in an adult life. I am past the adolescent stage. I know longer care about what fads are cool and I probably couldn't name one song on the Billboard's Top 40 List. Do they even still have that? I pay my bills on time and I have renter's insurance in case of emergency. But I don't quite feel like I have come into my own yet. I wonder more than worry about the future. I still get hopelessly lost in novels. In many ways I feel between. I am twenty six years old. I have a husband, two children, one and half college degrees, and a fuel efficient car. I also have hot pink eyeshadow and zebra filing folders to hold my bills. In many ways I don't feel old enough to have a six year old child but on the other hand, I have spent the last 2000 plus days doing 'Mommy' tasks. I have been changing diapers, wiping noses, kissing boo boos, play sword fighting, racing toy cars, practicing reading and writing, doing all of the things a Mommy does. Though it seems like only yesterday he was born, I cannot remember my life before Ezra, before being a mother. And yet that is only one aspect of who I am. I have a pretty good idea of what I am going to do tomorrow. I have a rough sketch of what my month is going to look like. I have a general idea about the rest of the year, and maybe a vague notion about the rest of my life. But for the most part, I am still on a journey of figuring out who I am, and what I am doing, and where I am going. The older I get I realize the less I know and yet I have so much more in me than I could have ever imagine. I have more to offer than I thought possible. I have always tried to find the word that described me. And to be honest for big chunks of the last six years that word has been mother. But as I watch my children come into their own I realize that there is more in them than I could have ever dreamed, they are bright and wonderful. And while I am a mother, and I love being a mother, there is still more in me left to discover.