...has the expectation of change been so palpable to me.
Sure moving to Pittsburgh was a huge change, but I knew that I would still have to get a job, find a place to live, go grocery shopping, do the laundry - it would just be in a different city.
but this... this is different - since the beginning of my second trimester, I honestly had no idea how I was going to pull off the birth of my child, let alone raise her and get her safely, happy, and willingly to 18. And here we are: at the beginning of the last six months of her formal "childhood". In six months she will indeed turn 18: safely, happily, and willingly.
In six months she will graduate high school and begin the next part of her life. The part of her life that she is responsible for pulling off. That part of her life that I am no longer responsible for to the degree that I have been anyways. and then it will just be me and Michael (Poppy too).
I have succeeded at the biggest goal I've ever set myself, and I'm only 38 and 363 days. Obviously this makes way for other goals, but nothing ever again will compare to that. I feel like I have put the final check on my life's task list. Sure, there are other things out there major that I could do - climb mountains, travel the world, run a marathon, etc. But let us get real here, other than the kid, I could have been a character in "Reality Bites", I am of the slacker generation. and frankly I just raised a kid, people - I am tired. Might I start taking more naps and watching more tv? Maybe. I am sure I will get some travel in there, and I might even undertake one more absurd bicycling ride (my only other major goal I set was the STP [Seattle to Portland Bike Ride], which I did but was very angry about for days afterward), but frankly I accomplished what I feel like I was here to accomplish (which is strange, because before she came along I never really thought of myself as someone who would accomplish that and do it so well).
So purposeless me, what will I do with all that unused direction? Hopefully not wear a hole in the floor.
Sure moving to Pittsburgh was a huge change, but I knew that I would still have to get a job, find a place to live, go grocery shopping, do the laundry - it would just be in a different city.
but this... this is different - since the beginning of my second trimester, I honestly had no idea how I was going to pull off the birth of my child, let alone raise her and get her safely, happy, and willingly to 18. And here we are: at the beginning of the last six months of her formal "childhood". In six months she will indeed turn 18: safely, happily, and willingly.
In six months she will graduate high school and begin the next part of her life. The part of her life that she is responsible for pulling off. That part of her life that I am no longer responsible for to the degree that I have been anyways. and then it will just be me and Michael (Poppy too).
I have succeeded at the biggest goal I've ever set myself, and I'm only 38 and 363 days. Obviously this makes way for other goals, but nothing ever again will compare to that. I feel like I have put the final check on my life's task list. Sure, there are other things out there major that I could do - climb mountains, travel the world, run a marathon, etc. But let us get real here, other than the kid, I could have been a character in "Reality Bites", I am of the slacker generation. and frankly I just raised a kid, people - I am tired. Might I start taking more naps and watching more tv? Maybe. I am sure I will get some travel in there, and I might even undertake one more absurd bicycling ride (my only other major goal I set was the STP [Seattle to Portland Bike Ride], which I did but was very angry about for days afterward), but frankly I accomplished what I feel like I was here to accomplish (which is strange, because before she came along I never really thought of myself as someone who would accomplish that and do it so well).
So purposeless me, what will I do with all that unused direction? Hopefully not wear a hole in the floor.
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| Me - keeping busy |
Incredible. I can't even begin to understand what this feels like. This is indeed accomplishment. And I love the thought of willinging turning 18 years old. My baby just turned 18 weeks, willingly. I now commission you to write a post of advice to parents, from the other side.
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