family, life, Writing

So Many Birthdays

From Christmas time until the 12th of February, we celebrate a handful of birthdays in our family. They always make me think long and hard about the years past, and the years before us. Each of the birthdays this go-round has seemed monumental. Between my hubby celebrating a big birthday, our oldest turning 18, the next two boys turning 11, little lady turning 4, and then my own birthday that heralds another year of my thirties, each of these birthdays have seemed big to me.

I remember meeting our oldest when he was just getting ready to turn 13. I always called him my instant teenager, as I only had a 4 and 5 year old at the time. We hit it off right away. Watching him grow and mature the last 6 years has been a real joy for me. He’s a smart young man and I know he has a bright future. I pray often that he would recognize God’s plan for his life and start living it.

It doesn’t seem possible that my oldest bio kid is 11 now. Time is cruel and I find myself wondering often where it went. How did 11 years of parenting pass me by so quickly? What happened to the bright eyed 5 year old boy that asked me a million questions every day? He is getting taller all the time and really starting to mature. I am thankful to be watching him grow and I know God has a plan for him.

I remember meeting my second stepson when he was just 6 years old. He came with his stepdad to pick the hubs and I up – the tow truck hubs was driving broke down out near where they live. Goodness, from the moment I saw him, I couldn’t believe how much he looked like his dad. I am thankful God put him in my life.

Little Lady turned 4 this year. Our first together baby is now as old as my youngest son was when hubby and I met each other. She is full of sass. She is assertive and she is quite the force to be reckoned with. I pray she never loses her fire, but I also pray that she learns how to rely fully on God.

My own birthday is a few days away. 31 years old. 472 months (as Mister A pointed out). I cannot believe it. I have to admit, I’ve been frustrated by the things I have yet to accomplish. One of my biggest personal goals was to have a book published BEFORE my 30th birthday. Here we are, another year past that deadline, with no book. I have an incredibly hard time forcing myself to make time to write. As a dear friend and I have discussed, it feels so…indulgent.

Well, I’m indulging this morning. Starting with this blog post, I’m giving myself permission to indulge every day. In fact, I’m going to require it of myself. If I haven’t anything worth sharing to say, then I’ll just dump a jumble of words on a new page and let my brain work through some of it’s kinks and hang ups. I have books to write people, stories that are begging to be told, advice that I must give. I cannot sit on these ideas any longer and let them fade away without seeing the paper they were meant for.

I am ready to see what comes of making this commitment to myself and to my writing. I hope you’ll read along as I blog about my progress, my hang ups, and more.

Do you need to renew a commitment to yourself or something your passionate about? Tell me about it in the comments!

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