SO, here we are. Somewhere between 2 and 2 and 1/2. Somewhere between baby and toddler it's starting to happen. I realized in the last few days that my baby is not a baby anymore. This little, independent, strong, assertive child is slipping away from me. Not really of course but that is how I am feeling. We used to cuddle more. Now it's mostly more about trucks, cars, vacuum cleaners and Einsteins than me. It could of course be my imagination. Independence is creeping in more and more. It's funny. Sometimes I feel like me life is like that scene you see in music videos or on cars. A person is standing in the middle of a ton of whirling lights all around them. It's one giant blur and the person is the only thing in focus. That's me. And I'm not that in focus most of the time to be honest. But, that's my life. One big, humongous blur. I'm sure other parents can identify. Where DOES the time go? How is it that it's December 1st already? Where is my baby? Where is my first baby? Who am I?

It actually is funny and sad. I just want to stop the frenetic pace sometimes. Most times. I hate that I'm 42. I hate that I am out of breath when I race up the stairs. I hate my wrinkles and gray hair. But I don't want any regrets. I don't want to look around when I'm 70 and feel like I didn't stop to appreciate my children, my husband, my family. But I'm not sure how to accomplish this. Scream at the top of my lungs, "EVERYONE STOP TALKING AND LET ME LOOK AT YOU!!!" Don't think so. Amidst the screaming, whining, crying, homework, dinners, meltdowns, tears, stresses, school work and everything else, I'm not sure how to be that person that takes it all in. To not regret so many things. I hate how I speak to my kids and my husband sometimes. OK, a lot of the time. I try to be more patient, I do. I just think I suck at it.

All the while I am desperate to hold onto my baby. The boy who needs me, wants me. He does still need and want me, right? Ironically however the boy who I did not want. That's right, I really wanted another girl. I sat in the car in my daycare provider's driveway when we heard the news from the genetic counselor. "No genetic issues. And, it's a boy." I immediately started to cry. I had no idea what to do with a boy.

My aunt told me to be thankful. As she well knew, so many people would be thrilled to be able to have a child in the first place. Selfish, selfish I was. Why couldn't I just be happy to be having a normal, healthy baby? Again, I suck.

I spend a lot of time feeling guilty for what I say and do. Instead of just saying and doing the things that people want me to say and do. I let everyone know my "inside voice" as a colleague says. Why? I'm a pretty good communicator. I say what I feel. I let people know. Why not? I grew up around and in a family of good communicators. Everyone said what was on their mind.

We never really mastered the "hold your tongue" attitude. Pity. It could have saved many a hurt feeling. As we grow older, we do grow wiser I think.

So growing older, living in a crazy life that is wizzing by isn't all that bad. I just need to take more time to be easier on me and on my kids and my husband. It is what it is and I am who I am. Although I may not like me every day, I think I'm a pretty good person and mommy and wife. At least I hope I am.

Of course as soon as I saw the son I really did not want all of that changed. I could not imagine a happier baby. He truly is the Love Muffin I used to call him. My little Julie Bean, my sweet, delicious love.

I pray that he always needs me, that both my kids always need me. Despite how I might suck at things from time to time. Love conquers all. Love heals all. And family always loves till the end of the earth. Up to the sky and back again. I know no other way to love.