Growing Up

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I got tears in my eyes at Chic-fil-a yesterday. No special reason, except for the fact that my baby is not a baby. I have always known the clichés that time flies and you blink, all that. When you live it, it is this overwhelming feeling that hits you out of no where. The clichés are true. They are wonderfully and painfully true at the same time. I love watching her grow up. I love seeing her develop into this unique little person who isn’t so little anymore.

She sat there across from me at her favorite place, discussing things she thinks about. She has this running thought stream that she readily shares at most times. But this. This caught me off guard. She wanted me to respond to her thoughts. She is starting to interact and truly want my thoughts and conversation. I love it, but it also makes me cry. I cry because time is truly flying by. How am I this person? How am I sharing clichés with a knowing smile with strangers who tell me how cute she is and to enjoy the moments because they are over before you know it.

I don’t want them to be over. I want to do it again, with Vivienne, not another child. This is why other people feel compelled to have more children. Well, I assume. It is the only thing that triggers that you must have another one feeling. Those involuntary tears in my eyes while eating a normal fast food dinner are what makes you think you must do this again. Except the thought of doing it again with another baby is not what I want. I want to live it again with my Vivi.

I cry as I write this. I try to live in now. I try not to think about all that is to come. I try to enjoy each phase. It can be hard. Like right now. It is hard to think of her not being little. It is hard to think of the times I know she will want nothing to do with me. Maybe these feelings are why I want her to sleep with me at night. I want her close. I want her next to me for as much time and for as long as she will let me.

All the clichés are true. She is growing up too fast. It is strangely heartbreaking.

***TMI Alert*** (Although really, isn’t my whole blog TMI?)

If you are a guy, stop reading if period talk makes you feel yuck. I have these INSANE mood swings a few days before and then during my period. It makes me extremely EXTREME. That may also explain why I get crazy-er for a few days a month. Even though I know when it is coming, I get distracted and forget to put on my Dragon Time essential oil. This oil has changed so much for me. I have struggled with my periods since the day they began. I remember the physical pain when I was 12 and I got my first period. I would be brought to the ground with crippling pain for hours when I was a teenager. Now, it isn’t so much the physical pain, but the emotional pain that plaques me. I feel this complete and utter sadness coupled with anger at everything.and everyone for reasons I can’t understand. When I started using Dragon Time, I was shocked. It balanced me. I felt like I could get my barrings back.

{I am sorry, not sorry about oily talk. I love them. Can’t help it. Don’t want to help it. Have questions? Ask. Want to know more? I will happily help!

}

Anyway, I like to think I have my period ant that is why I cried at Chic-fil-a about my 3-year-old growing up. But, probably not. It is happening too fast for me. Facebook is already ripping my heart out on a daily basis with the memory posts. I want to turn that feature off, but I can’t. I love remembering when she was even more itty bitty. I show her the pictures and she says, “Mommy, dat was when I was a baby.” She refuses to let me call her my baby. She tells me she is not a baby and it hurts. She is right, she is not a baby. Right now, she doesn’t understand that she truly will always be my baby. Honestly, I didn’t understand until I had my forever baby. I didn’t get it until I became a mother. I suppose that is generally the way it goes. You don’t understand until you live it.

So, time, slow down. And I will take as many pictures as I can to help this sad pathetic excuse for a memory my alcoholism left me with to remember how wonderful every moment is. I also want to tell you how thankful I am for my sobriety, that I don’t miss moments that I would have blurred (or missed completely) with alcohol. I am thankful I am always sober and I am giving my memory the best chance possible because I know I will turn around and she will be grown up. Yes, I have cried this entire post.

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