I had a moment this week of "Wow, I'm 37 and a mommy of two boys and married and this is my house and this is my car and I'm a grown up" I know I've been a grown up for many years but for some reason on some days life just randomly reminds me of things. I remember when I was little I used to think of who I'd be "grown up" I pictured myself with long legs?, long brown hair, and fast walking. I planned to have a little girl and call her Kelly. I thought I'd be a veteranarian because of the time I saved that bird in my drive way by annointing him with oil and praying over him. I imagined my mom would be an old looking mamaw and would always have homemade buttermilk biscuits on the table when we visited.
My mom isn't mamaw, she's Nana and at 63 she surely doesn't look like an old lady..I don't have brown hair (hmm, well underneath I do) and I have no little girl named Kelly.
I have blonde hair, a sweeter and more patient and giving than me husband and a Banks and a Bennett and I could not be happier. I'm glad God planned all my life for me instead of my plan working out. I hate me with brown hair! and I think I can be a better mommy to two boys than to that crazy little Kelly girl.
This week my sweet firstborn has started to love his little brother more and more. Still no huge kleenex moments of everlasting love but he's making great strides. It tickles me to the core to think that in just a few short months they'll be playing and laughing and of course fighting together right there in the playroom floor while me, their blonde mommy is in the kitchen making the buttermilk biscuits that my mama has yet to have had on her kitchen table when we visit!!
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