So I am finally 25. Well, maybe finally isn’t the right word. Let’s try again. So I am 25. … That sounds about right. To be honest I don’t really know how to feel about turning 25. I flit between relief that I no longer have to provide my ID when going out (because I’m making the assumption that now I’ll look a bit older than 18) to a slight feeling of regret when I realise that I don’t even have to worry about that because we never go out anymore.
I took a moment to reflect on my life yesterday as we were driving in the car (my most favourite moment to contemplate life as it whizzes past), and although it was only a brief moment I came to a pretty big realisation.
Where am I in “life”? What have I been doing with this gift that God has given me? As usual my thoughts are drawn to what people think of me, what their words and actions have done to influence my attitude and outlook on life. Thus, one of the recurring thoughts that I had kept coming back to this: Recently I have often been called an over achiever. At first I was offended but upon reflection, I suppose I can understand why. We got married young, very young to the right people – which is rare. We have our own flat and house. We have 2 kids. We have 2 dogs. I am a partner and manager of the brokerage that I started working in only 6 years ago. We built a house for my parents so that it’s one less thing for them to worry about. We have a comfortable life (most of the time). It all sounds fabulous doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I know that this is fantastic and I am very blessed to be where I am right now. But I am human… Fatally so.
In my moment of reflection, I realised that in my pre-adulthood part of life, I had only planned to get married at 25, or maybe be married, but definitely only have kids by 25. I planned to travel, anywhere and everywhere, to live life to the fullest – before settling down to the serious world of parenting and growing up. (Don’t ask me how I was going to do all of this if I wasn’t serious about work and stuff)…
I did not think that at this time of my life, that I (or rather we as a couple) would be so responsible. Responsible for paying so many bills, putting food into the mouths of my own little people, doing washing-cooking-cleaning or even hiring of people to help to do that (because let’s be honest I don’t do nearly the amount of cleaning I should), maintaining property, making business decisions that can affect not only me but other people too. I could go on forever with all the things that when thought about together actually make my stomach turn a bit…
There are so many bits of responsibility that lace every moment of my waking life. Things that I have to think about (like: feeding the kids, making sure there is formula etc) to things that have become second nature (not putting scissors on the floor or making sure I make their milk properly). Even my most favourite thing to do (sleeping!!) has become something a responsible mother of 2 would do – because I can’t function properly without it.
I’m actually not even sure where I wanted to go with this post, but maybe the point was to just work through the thousands of thoughts that run through my head everyday. What’s the conclusion you ask? Where’s the big revelation of awesomeness that makes it all perfect and happy? Well, I don’t actually have one. All I know is that I actually would not give up one single bit of how life is now (except maybe the dogs – ha ha). At the end of the day I would take on mountains of responsibility if it means that I get to spend time with Seth, Kyla and Riya-Ray. I love you all and you’re worth it!