How on earth did I get here so quickly? I have four children? Really? I have a seven year old who is joining Cub Scouts, and winning Student of the Month awards, and reading in front of church? Really? I have a five year old helping me fold laundry, sweep up floors, make his bed? How can that be? I have a three year old who gets dressed all by himself, puts on his shoes, and zips his jacket by himself? When did that happen? I have a BABY GIRL who is rolling and scooting all over the floor, swinging on swings, laughing at her brothers, and throwing her little arms around me giving me squeezes? Seriously? When did this happen?
I swear sometimes I still feel like I am the babysitter. I feel like any minute I should turn to the oldest child and say, "So, do you know when your mommy will be home?" Yet, I am the mommy. I am responsible for these FOUR little ones. Me. How is that possible? Am I old enough to be doing this? Am I qualified to be preparing healthy meals, and setting doctor's appointments, meeting with teachers, keeping the kids clean/fed/clothed/well rested, teaching them all they need to know? After all, I'm just a kid myself.
And then I remember. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not even in my twenties. In fact, I am on the precipice of my mid thirties. But I still feel like a kid. I still feel exactly as I did 10 or (gulp) 15 years ago.
And yet, they all call me "mom". And when he gets hurt he comes running to me. And when I walk in the room her whole face lights up. And when he succeeds I am the first to know. And when he is sad he needs a hug from me. And every time they reach another milestone my chest swells with pride. And when I see them happy I am happy too.
I don't know how I got here. I don't know what happened to the breezy, carefree days of my youth. And tomorrow I will be yet another year older. Time keeps on rolling by, picking up speed as it goes. But I will do my best to slow it down. Because, as it turns out, these are the best years of my life. No matter how I got here.