35 and finally advanced for my age....

When I was in the 5th grade the different classes were organized based on academic achievement. Oh yeah, there was a pathetic huge effort made to shield the children from such an obvious selection process so it went something like this.....

5-1, 5-2, 5-3, 5-4, 5-5, & 5-6

First day of school, we all take notes so that we can cruelly assign labels to one another. Amy P. (P for perfection) with REAL penny loafers, the REAL Gloria's, and SEVERAL Swatch watches was in class 5-2. It would only be fair to mention that she was a glorious UIL speller and her mom drove a suburban. Obviously 5-2 is reserved for the rich, the regal, and the real real smart.

We then notice that Vicky S. (S for scary) with eyeliner....EYELINER IN THE 5TH GRADE, spiked jewelry and frequently used the *s* word on the bus with authority was in 5-6. It would only be fair to mention that she threw away her test papers instead of having her parents sign them. She was so fierce that she stole my purse in the 6th grade at a local ice cream shop and even though my initials were on the side of it, I let her keep it....cause I had some feathers under my florescent sweatshirt. Obviously 5-6 is reserved for the rudest, the crudest, and the late readers.

I was in 5-4. I could toot my horn that I hadn't been placed with the foot draggers and the fight starters down in 5-6 but I could never brag and say I had been tested and found to be "advanced for my age" either.

That is until now, because....

35 + Pregnant = Advanced Maternal Age

Rude. Rude. Rude. Just plain rude.

I turned 35 today and with that comes a bounty of blessings, I am certain. I am certain. Repeating myself for encouragement because my morning was filled with several un-birthday like happenings....

I awoke on my birthday to the sweetest face in my life, with his little eyes still puffy, holding his ragged and worn out bear and saying these words:

"Momma. My pants is wet."

Joy. Sweet joy even on my birthday.

We head downstairs after a quick change and I make myself a bowl of cereal. Fruity Pebbles to be exact and before you judge me harshly I will have you know this little tidbit about my little Pebbly cereal.

Only 110 calories per serving, 3 (count'em) THREE grams of fiber per serving, and lots of essential vitamins and minerals. Line up the boxes people and do the math before you shake any fingers, K?

Sorry, the hormones took custody of the keyboard there for a moment.

Anyway, I make the cereal and head to the computer. This is my ritual. You have now had a peek into my morning. I serve the prince his milk in a cup, I serve the king his coffee in a cup and then I serve myself a bowl of fruity goodness.

And I like it.

So as I sit down and apparently black-out, the bowl of cereal falls, flies, explodes, implodes, and ends up ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE.

Fruity pieces of cereal have shot from the chair under the chair, into my husbands boot, down my legs and onto the only clean pair of shorts that fit my ever-expanding, advancing, aging, body!!!!

Chris comes down with a "Good Morning" shout out and I am in stunned silence....for a minute, because then.....

My oldest child comes down the stairs to greet the dog who is eagerly helping with the clean-up efforts. In an attempt to move the dog out of her way, she commands "GO" and so he does.

All over the floor.

Can anyone contain their contents for the LOVE OF PETE on my birthday?

I can say this. The floor is clean but the towels are not. Seeing Fruity Pebbles in the light of day, that are ferociously attached to beach towels have sort of changed their place in my heart.

My boy is clean and so are his sheets. He's convinced someone spilt water in his bed.

Can you say denial?

My life is good No, my life is great! The bounty is overflowing every single day. I am grateful to be 35 and finally realize how foolish and ignorant I am. The truest blessing of growing older is finding myself completely dependant on Him and his infinite wisdom. As I mature physically and spiritually I pray there is less of me and more of Him in every single way.

Wisdom of Aslan

"Welcome, child," he said.

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."

"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.

"Not because you are?"

"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."