Lately I've had these moments where I stare at the mirror and notice life swaying in a motion so fast by me that it makes my heart ponder. I see wrinkles and lines around my lips and eyes. Freckles that adorn my arms. Spots changing from once a tanned young adult to a middle aged woman. A woman called Mom. A woman that loves the Earth and sunshine. A woman that opens her eyes daily for her children. A woman that struggles through heart break and work. A woman that loves hard and yet tries to find the balance. Of good times chasing the sunlight.
I still walk around my house and stare intently at all the pictures. I have many. I stare at the looks of my babes in their young toddler hood. Or middle school. Or the first days of kindergarten. I stare at the moments caught on the back of the boat, smiling back at me. Through missing teeth. Or the innocent stare of a teenager with a dash of sass in his eyes. Catching him before he covered himself in tattoo's. And so he'd style his hair with the highest mohawk. An "eyes on me" Leo.
A toddler look of Kali in preschool days, when she sucked her thumb and her little over bite was way beyond what I even cared to admit. Whatever made her happy. And content.
I notice my shoulders hunched just a tad bit more while staring in the mirror. Sometimes feeling pretty and sometimes not. Rechecking myself because sag is just sag. And shits getting real. The majority of me always made up with "live this life, and don't be caught in that vanity-side vibe"
I look at the title of motherhood as one of the best and yet hardest jobs. I see dust and at times cobwebs up high and I think of how long they'd laid there, or flew in the air on that light because life is moving so fast. And I just can't slow the clock. The days and nights rolling into months and months and years.
The pictures that line my walls that always speak about love. And Faith.
Life is just flowing by.
Many nights I leave work and think I just wanna go lay down and rest. Taking a breather from organizing. And controlling. Numbers. Phones. People. Life.
Where as before I had an agenda. Soccer practice in far-a-way cities, to turn around and make dinner, check homework and collapse into bed doing it all over again the next day.
Now the days are mine.
They've changed drastically. My soul has been tattered. But I'm not the only one. I'm the soldier in line with the rest of you in this life. But man.....do I feel change. I see it.
I notice parents driving home from work, with kids in the back seat. Or as I drive by a park and see the hundreds of kids out practicing. Life.
The path and change happens. I just stare. That life. Those kiddo's. It flies by. Faster than they'll even know.
I continue to look for goodness. For happiness. I look for the moments that I feel like sharing with others. Because somedays I don't care to mingle. Some days, I truly can't.
Last night my son stopped by to pick up his med tray filled for yet another week.
As he left, he hugged me tight. Kissing me on the cheek. I watched him hop back into his car, and I thought...woah.
Life.
Walking back up my walkway to my porch. Where I raised him. The very porch that would welcome him home after a night out of driving for the first time. Or a daughter that came home from her first dance with her first boyfriend. That porch that would welcome us all home safely. Home.
The safety net. The feeling inside as I walked away from him and that kiss on my cheek.
He's alive. Washing away those messy ugly thoughts. That hug. That kiss. That love. My boy.
My kitchen still adorned with awards from their years of middle and high school. I've managed to toss those dudes up as wall paper versus into books.
So many things have changed. And yes, I'm still a mama hoarder.
The mind and body I never appreciated as a young adult. A young mother. Shadowed by my own mother. And grandmother. Innocently enough of them, yet promising myself I would never be. Sometimes I catch
glimpses of her. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of my aging self and just stare for a second.
My recent relationship with Jesus allowing me to let some things go, and just pray.
Praying for my kids. For my son, who loves me so, and yet I will always love him more.
The days are slipping away, and I am working hard to hold on. To hold on with a lightly held grip of middle age. Never losing sight of where I'm going, and how I got here.
Excepting the fine lines and freckles of moments I'm able to enjoy in this life.
Always keeping myself in tune with the what if's. You know the standard cliche' of middle aged, motherhood. Of how precious and delicate life can be.
To maybe let the side view of belly, and chin, and maybe just maybe grasping that we are beautiful creatures big and small.
To appreciate motherhood, and middle age. Trying hard to understand why grief and heartache plays a role. Always praying for those around me. Hoping and wishing we never receive those ugly phone calls.
To spread love and remind others just how delicate these days are.
That friendships and people come into our lives for reason.
To love your partner even more during the hard days because you can. To offer a smile to anyone willing to take that smile. Middle age is showing me so many different parts of me.
Letting go of all the "yes's" I've shared for years and years.
Realizing that my new emerging self will hopefully be blessed with the next chapters filled with peace. Good health. Most especially my kids.
To be lucky enough to watch them marry and have children some day. Embracing my self even more.
To share our story. To share happiness, fine lines, wrinkles and freckles.
To rock a baby, and wipe slobber from my cheeks from someone I am lucky enough to be part of.
My daily thought as I wake each day will always be thankfulness. Still walking through the path of fear, yet pushing my way out of the darkness.
Middle age, and learning to move on. With trust. And family. My birdies, and lover. My animals and flowers. My belly, fine line and wrinkles and freckles.
Wondering does peace become more instilled with age, or do you learn to live with it.
Smiling at the precious pictures I see in homes, on social media...even the ones that look staged. Or the perfectly inperfect ones. Going with the flow, of what life is suppose to show me.
Lucky enough to watch the sun peak on the horizon at me, and lucky enough to watch it slip out of sight....
Happy Wine Wednesday.....or Water. Whichever rocks your boat.
Just don't give up.
Love to you,
This Mama Middle Aged Fine Lined And Wrinkled-
Be kind to animals. Don't be a dick.
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