Wait! No one told me I was old!

Why am I the last to discover this? What happened? I am so used to being the newly wed, the young mother. When did I become quite so established? It's frightening. I realized not long ago that 2008 marks the 10 year anniversary of my high school graduation. As if that wasn't enough, today was my baby's first day as a Sunbeam (for those who are unfamiliar with the LDS Primary organization, Sunbeams are the youngest children in Sunday School, aka primary). Both my kids have their own classes to attend during church. Both my children are potty trained. Both my children are independent and outgoing. Where does that leave me?


Chad and I have been married for eight years (well, almost. It'll be eight years on the 15th of this month, but who's counting?). It feels as if we've had a baby in the house pretty consistently since we've been married. I guess, in reality, we haven't, but it all blurs together. I remember when Michael, our first, was born. I loved being a mother and I adored my beautiful son, but I was pretty sure I would never sleep again. I relinquished myself to a life of multiple night time feedings and rising for breakfast well before the sun dared to show itself. I spent my time at church equally divided between the mother's lounge and the foyer. I didn't have a purse, but a huge backpack filled with an arsenal of mothering weapons---cheerios, diapers, spare clothes, interesting toys, binkies, bibs, bandaids, baby tylenol, wipies, blankets and many other things that had the tag "just in case" linked to their name (i.e. a single serving of formula mix, even though my children were 100% nursed, "just in case"). My life revolved around meals and naps and play dates with other mothers of young children. I'd simultaneously commiserate with other mothers about how hard it was to find a minute to myself and celebrate the joys of small milestones like teeth and steps. Our kids were young, so we were young.

How did it change so fast? Today I realized that I don't have any babies anymore. I carry a cute, tiny purse with room for a wallet and some chapstick, nothing more. My kids dress themselves, brush their own teeth, clean their own rooms, cut their own food, take care of their own "business" as far as bathroom trips go. They enjoy being with me, but prefer the company of those their own age. They've defined their own personalities, sense of humors, likes and dislikes. They are adults trapped in little kid bodies. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. Don't get me wrong. Life is amazingly wonderful. I love having conversations with my kids, or being able to whisk them away on a spur of the moment trip with nothing more than a few jackets and water bottles. They are incredible little people and I love them more than words could ever express. But, still, there is definitely something to be said for the feel of a sleeping baby, curled up snugly against your chest. That, I think, is one of the most exquisite feelings imaginable. Their perfect little bodies inhaling and exhaling repetitively through their perfect little noses. They are miracles and being around them is a reminder that God exists.

And you know what the real kicker is? All that time I thought people were crazy for telling me to hold on to my babies because "they grow up quick." I thought they were insane. How could years of diapers and sleepless night "go quick?" But you know, they were right. It did go fast. And it was incredible while it lasted. I'm hoping that time will slow down a little bit so that I can enjoy this next phase of life a little longer than the last.