I’m getting old.

Yes, I’m aware that I’m only thirty three and have a lot more getting old to do. But lately I’ve been thinking about all I’ve done and experienced in thirty three years. And it makes me feel old.

I have a child in middle school. I feel like he was just born but nope, that was eleven years ago. I have changed so much since that time. Back then I was a new mother that had no idea what I was doing. Whereas today I am a seasoned vet at motherhood…who still doesn’t know what I’m doing.

This weekend my nephew is turning eighteen. Eighteen! I remember clearly the day he was born. We were instant buddies, him and I. And now he’s a high school graduate and an adult. I don’t know where the time has gone, but I don’t like it.

My husband and I have been together for fifteen years next month. That seems like an insane amount of time. But it’s gone by in the blink of an eye.

I’ve been through a lot in my life. I’ve made choices I’m not especially proud of. I’ve chosen roads that were definitely harder than I expected. And now I’m thirty three, married with three kids and just wondering where the time went. I could’ve sworn I was seventeen last week.

The experiences I’ve had and choices I’ve made have made me the woman I am today. And I’m pretty cool for the most part, I’d say. I could be thinner, I could spend more time on my appearance and I primarily speak in sarcasm and curse words but for the most part…I’m good people.

Getting older brings out mixed emotions in me. On one hand I yearn for the easier times of my youth and on the other, I look forward to what the future has to offer. It’s a fine line to tread, but I’m learning to do it.

In the meantime, I’m trying to embrace being in my thirties and figure out what that means to me. What kind of shenanigans can I get into now?

Nothing crazy, I’m pretty much ready for bed by 9. But you get the idea…