An Old Twenty-Five

There have been times when I realized I'm getting old. They have been harder to come by for me since I'd pick board games over bars, babysitting instead of a party, or visiting family over a vacation in Mexico. (You got yourself a real fun gal here Peyton! One who would say "fun gal" and just nail it home...) I like healthy choices and find that making them is fun and gratifyingly youthful. Yet there have been those moments when it is confirmed that I am adding on the years. Like birthdays. Or when I check the 25-35 box on surveys. Or when I, eight weeks post-partum, decide to play soccer with a group of high schoolers. (Now that was a good time.) But nothing prepared me for having a baby and realizing that while I am young, oh so young, in his eyes I am always going to be old.

I think most people who've had a good childhood can relate. As a child your parents are gods. They know the rules of life, can make any pain better with a kiss, and can save you from even the scariest monsters in the closet. Add some more years and it's flipped. They don't use video games, or cool phrases, or understand why it's such a big deal that Suzie called Leah who called Elyse to tell her about something that- well, nevermind, they wouldn't even understand what they were calling about in the first place. But you, you've got it all: youth, beauty, and the confidence that, simply put, you know everything. Except for the fact that you too will be old. That everyone who says "they've been there" actually has. That wisdom is growing inside of you but has years to be fully recognized, and once it is, you are wise enough to know that there is so much more to learn.

Believing that my mom and dad were this age once is doable. Realizing that they were as inexperienced at life and marriage and parenthood is tougher. Because they are my parents. They were always old. They held the key and power to teach me. They clearly were given a manual that I have not yet seen.

And now? Well, now that's me. A young twenty-five who will be eternally old to her little boy.

Years from now I can see our children pouring over pictures, possibly even to see who their sweet little resembles, and noting how young we are. How in that click of a camera we were captured at an age that they might have already passed. And they will try to understand what it was like for us, that we were living a life just like theirs but with sillier clothes and hairstyles. And they will consciously relate to the fact that we too once were young. But deep down, it will be inconceivable that we were as clueless as they in the big things in life, that we were trying our best, that we were showering them with love since that's all we were sure would work.

And ya know what? I hope that is what they think. Because that means we did it right.

**I'm linking to The Extraordinary Ordinary's Just Write Tuesdays. Click here and check it out!**

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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