Mother, Queen of the Realm

I was talking with my mom on the phone when something popped out of me that, while an exaggeration, carried truth I hadn’t considered before: “Sometimes I feel that by the time my kids are all in school, my life will be over. I won’t be young anymore.”

Now, I do know life’s not over after the age of 35. I think these thoughts came from a place of feeling stuck. With college and my 20’s in the past, and my days of having babies not far behind them, I keep feeling like the next big step in life should be coming. Anytime now.

Truth is, that step is already here, as a stay-at-home mom of little ones. It just feels, sometimes, like that step didn’t take me far enough.

Being the good mom that she is, my mom gave advice and sent some quotes. Like:

“The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery. The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests.” ~Author Unknown

Thinking of myself as Mother, Queen of My Realm of Tiny Watts Humans, does lift my spirits. Let’s take a look at my realm:

My realm is theirs.

My realm belongs to my little subjects. While I can squeeze more hobbies into my life, and exercise after the rainy season to boost my zombified energy, my time is still theirs--keeping them alive, playing, loving, teaching, correcting behaviors, comforting, and just being there. It’s all for them.

My realm is a paradox. 

If I could choose to do anything with my life, I’d stay at home with my little ones. I’d choose it again and again. I’m especially grateful I can make that choice, for not all can.

At the same time, my breaks from the kids are always refreshing. My sanity is often obliterated by the time Clayton gets home, and after a “welcome home” kiss and hug, I’m off to hide in my room before I have to make dinner. It would be amazing if I could have just two hours of kid-free time each day.

I’m often torn between speeding up their abilities so they can do more on their own, and wanting to encase them in their cute ages forever like a snow globe.

My realm is precious.

The three subjects in my realm communicate with cute sounds, cute words, and cute actions. They love laughing and playing with the Queen and King, to whom they have given their complete trust. They go about their day with all the innocence of a butterfly clinging to a flower under a golden sunset.

Little fingers grasp mine, little bums squeeze onto my lap. My day is filled with little voices, little teardrops, and the tickling of little feet of little people with big hearts. All they need is love and care, and my subjects will grow and thrive.

My realm will not last.

This is how Brielle smiles for pictures

Though I yearn for that time when most of my children are in school, I also strive to treasure those precious moments. I hold my baby Levi close and breathe him in every day, for the time will come when I will no longer remember him as a baby.

I snuggle my sweet two-year-old Brielle, for someday I won’t remember her at this adorable stage. I hug my four-year-old Ariana and listen to her songs and stories, for I won’t always remember her as a toddler--and I’ve already forgotten what she was like when she was Levi’s and Brielle’s ages.

Now is the time to soak in their adorable spirits, sweet innocence, and never-ending love.

It’s a time to remind myself that I’m Mother, Queen of My Realm of Tiny Watts Humans. Or simply Mommy, as I’m known to my subjects.

Thirty, Nerdy, and Striving

I AM THIRTY.

I’m grateful to be thirty. I am alive, and whole. I have a home, food, and warmth. I have loved ones.

But I sure don’t like saying I’m thirty. It looks even worse as “30.” Ugh.

When I was a teenager, I remember the adults saying they didn’t feel their age. Moms and Dads didn’t feel middle-aged as those years came upon them. Grandmas and Grandpas didn’t feel like the seniors they were. I couldn’t possibly comprehend what they meant, but I always believed them. And I was a little afraid of being in their positions because it sounded kinda crazy.

I tell ya, thirty is the magical mark when you start to understand. I don’t feel like I’ve been alive for three decades. I’m still the same me from those earlier years, just wrapped in more layers of experience. That’s really all that being thirty means: you’ve just been adulting for a while, congratulations!

Haha Mom, you're 30!

I was excited for my twenties. The twenties would be these exciting years where I’d be young, fresh, and carving my own path. Of course, even young adulting is still adulting; I wasn’t handed a free ticket to life. But I’m super grateful for my upbringing, which gave me a great chance at working hard and seeking opportunities.

And I loved my twenties. I mean, they can pretty much be summed up by college, marriage, and having babies, but they were more than that. I tried new things, learned new things. I screwed up and have regrets. I forged new relationships. I got to know myself and found my groove. Then babies came and I had to find myself all over again.

Now my twenties are forever in the past, locked away in memory.

So how’s life as a thirty-year-old parent? Well, most of my relaxing, creative, and thinking time comes in the two-and-half hours after the kids go to sleep. I write, or Clayton and I play games or watch movies together. Or we read and watch things about space. Yes, lots of outer space stuff around here. We also binge-watch Les Miserables in its movie and concert forms every other year. Sometimes those few evening hours are not enough for me to recharge, and by the end of the week, I’m a bit spent. Saturdays are for sleeping.

Looking ahead--but not too far ahead because that’s where the forties lurk, and oh man, can’t even go there right now--my goals are to help our kids thrive, to write a book someday, to go on more runs after the rain’s moved on, and to get enough rest during the week that we can go exploring on the weekends.

In the meantime, I’m just a thirty-year-old drawing pictures of chalk rainbows on the driveway, sculpting princesses with weird-looking eyes out of modeling clay, and shaking my hips to Disney songs. The kids keep me young.

I’m glad to be thirty. Maybe not . . . 30 . . . yet. ;) But life is good.