Thursday, June 20, 2013

A Woman in her Thirties, Last Year, This Time

Dear Self,

Don't be scared.  It's me.  I mean, you.  I'm you.  From the future.  One year in the future, to be exact.  I'm writing this to you because you're going about your day like it's all normal and stuff.  You're making chicken tortilla soup for dinner in the crock pot (less broth next time), getting ingredients together for almond cookies which you will bake with AB this afternoon, and getting your books together to return to the library.

Weird, right?  That I can remember all that detail, so far in the future?  Let's not focus on that.

Let's focus on this:

See that belly?  That is a dumb question.  Of course you do, just look down.  You're huge.  You're swollen, you're tired, and you're peeing every twenty minutes.  At least.  

So here's the thing. I know what you're thinking.  I know what you've been thinking for the last ten months of this roller-coaster pregnancy.  I'm here to let you know a few things, so listen up.

Don't.  You know how everyone keeps telling you that a parent's love doesn't divide, it multiplies?  They're right.

2.  You're worried that the treadmill you made L buy you for your birthday will collect dust in the basement once you're able to work out again.
Don't.  It's almost a blessing that you've been under so many strict restrictions throughout this pregnancy, because it's made you appreciate being able to get exercise.  To date, you've gone over 145 miles on that thing.  You may not belong on the cover of Self magazine, but still.  You're kind of a stud.   

3.  You're worried you're never going to sleep again, once the baby comes.
Well... ummm... 
The good news is that you will function on less sleep in the coming year than you ever thought possible.  You'll be snappy, and you definitely will not look like the most beautiful woman in her thirties, but you will survive.  Even when it feels like you won't.  

Well, here's the thing.  This is Anna, today:

Dancing in the reading room at the P-ville public library.  Just because she's that happy.  And here is picture of her one year from now:

Dancing at the P-ville farmer's market.  Don't worry your swollen little self about it.  She'll be fine.

5. And so will you.
In the next year, L is going to travel a lot.  (Sorry.)  Often, just getting out of the house with both kids is going to feel like an act of God.  You're going to cry a lot, but thankfully you have wonderful friends willing to listen and offer support.  You're going to lean on your in-laws, who will be your saviors on more than one occasion.  You will potty train Anna, mostly.  You will get each child to their various daily activities, you will still have make time to read books (The Twelve Tribes of Hattie and The Woman who Wasn't There will be your favorites).

Oh, and you're going to make that whole dream of being a writer happen.  

BECAUSE YOU ARE A BAD-AS$.  Don't doubt it.    

Me.  You.  Us.

Tonight is going to be a little crazy.  But don't worry.  Everything is going to be okay.  Promise.


  1. This post made me a little weepy! It could be my own lack of sleep, but more likely that I could relate to most of those thoughts/fears.

    Oh, and you are for sure a bad a$$. ;)

  2. 1. You have always been a writer. :-)
    2. This was so much fun to read. (like all your posts, except the ones that make me cry.)
    3. I really miss you.
    4. I really really miss you.
    5. Yes, you are a bad-a$$. Obvi.

  3. I. Love. You. Now please autograph your book and send it to me. I can't wait to meet your beautiful children!

  4. This is so sweet and so bada$$ at the exact same time!

  5. You ARE a bada$$!!!! As evidenced by your gorgeous, happy, brilliant children; your gorgeous, amazing, it-still-amazes-me-how-organized-you-are self; your totally cool husband (#notbiased); your charming, hilarious, moving blog; and so many other things that I couldn't possibly list here but prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are a BADA$$, indeed.

  6. Love this post. And you. Am so thankful for you in my life and that you are here to write this post and raise those beautiful kiddos.

  7. You ARE a stud! 145 miles is no joke! So amazingly proud to have you as my friend. I love you and great job this year! Here's a bunch more (waaayyy easier) years. :)