#Motherhood Series: Child Of 30

Child OfI am launching a bi-weekly Monday #Motherhood series. A time for us to share our stories, challenges and desires as we experience the journey of motherhood. For the launch of this series, I have the real pleasure to welcome to My Mama Journey a long time childhood friend of mine, Caffeinated Canuck.

Welcome Sarah, and thanks for sharing your story.


I am 30.

To some that doesn’t mean a lot. 30 seems young or old to other people depending on which side of the age they’re on.

To me, it’s the birthday milestone I’ve had the most trouble coming to grips with thus far. It is the age I can remember my parents at when I first thought they were “grown ups” and old (sorry Mom!).  So when I turned 30 I had a bit of a hard time wrapping my head around some things. Thoughts of mortality and my youth slipping away made me a bit morose, to be honest.

It was all very dramatic and broody.

What is the meaning of life? Why are we here?

Just to grow up and then move on to the next unseen plane?

(Yes, I’ve always tended toward a bit of dramatics, thanks for asking.)

I came to the conclusion, that no matter what our age, we are all children. Still learning and growing and discovering. Not just things in life but also in the constant re-invention of ourselves.

The first decade of our lives was spent primarily learning. How to talk, walk, and become more independent. We started school and learned to read. We learned about sharing and hopscotch and all the little games kids play. We were in every essence, children.

The next was spent perfecting our preteen eye roll and again, learning. We had a bit more freedom and dabbled in self-expression and decided on what we wanted to be when we “grew up”. We strived so hard to be grown that it only proved our naiveté.  When you’re actually an adult you realize there is no way to be independent if someone is still providing you with everything you need. No matter how angst-y you are or how many times you protest “I’m not a CHILD, Mother!” (in a certain tone that proves that you are in fact very much still a child) it doesn’t count for experience.

The 20-30 age is, yet again, a learning experience. We’re finally on our own. Maybe in school or working or both. It’s a lot of self-discovery. Again…we think we’re grown.

But 30? 30 is when you start to think something is wrong with you because you can finally admit that you still don’t feel like an adult. You wonder if your friends and peers have it all together because you certainly don’t. You might ask yourself if you’re “childish” as if that’s a bad thing.
I don’t think it is. Every stage of our lives thus far has had one common theme.

Learning.

To read

To write.

To share.

Learning about ourselves.

Learning and childishness go hand in hand. We’re curious, wondrous, and easily delighted in a childish state. I think that part of our childhood stays with us and allows us to put aside the day to day drudgery and still be interested in and learn new things. To find joy in the unexpected and the planned.

I choose to believe that every age teaches us something about ourselves and is a chance to reinvent the parts that we find lacking. I’m hoping my 30’s will be the reinvention of body for me. I’ve got the “who I am” thing down pat for now so I’m hoping that I can get the vessel in shape enough to carry me through the rest of my learning years.

Right now I get to experience true childhood again through my children. I have an excuse to Trick-or-Treating. A reason to make crafts. Someone to show those childish games to. I can dance wildly in the kitchen without looks of reproach. I can do anything because they are young and I am invincible to them.

I’m hoping for more personal time in my 40’s where I can start learning what I want to be when the kids are grown.

More freedom in my 50’s to travel and learn and immerse myself in other places and cultures.

You see the trend here.

Always learning, always evolving, always with a goal.

That’s childish.

That’s growing.

And that…is life.


Sarah is the homeschooling, free spirited Mom to 2 girls E & P. This proud Canadian & lover of coffee, whiskey and tie dye can be found writing caffeine fueled musings at her blog, fullycaffeinatedcanadianmom.wordpress.com or posting memes and other nonsense on Facebook at facebook.com/caffeinatedcanuk

A letter to my soon “to be” two year old

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Dearest Emyrah,

I write this letter as I watch you sleeping soundly in the seat between Papa and I, your legs propped up on me as we travel home from our recent trip to western Canada.

So peaceful … so little. Simply beautiful. 

This past week was the first time, since I returned to work after your birth that we spent some quality mama and daughter time together. And as I write this letter to you, I’m holding back tears. I share what I saw this week, only because it has struck me so hard and I am totally amazed by you. It may not have the same effect on others, but nonetheless I write this for you.

There is just so much I want to share about our week together, so many great memories and silly things you did (that laugh of yours is just so infectious!). But these are moments that only you and I will understand, and possibly only memories that I will have (as you may be just too young to remember).

It hit me this past week, that you were no longer a one year old but a little girl who was turning 2 in a short few months. People would ask me, how old is she? And I would hesitate each time because I wanted to say one. I would reply a bit delayed that you were 20 months. My mind couldn’t help but think that in four short months, your age would no longer be counted by months , but simply by years.  wpid-dsc_0467.jpg

Life just seems to fast forward so quickly, and I also started to reflect on my life, my age, and I couldn’t help but wonder if your nanny (my mama) thought the same about me when I was that small.

As I awaited your arrival, after finding out I was pregnant, I had so many questions. I didn’t know how it would be, I didn’t know what sort of personality you would have or who you would resemble. Impatiently we waited for your arrival (10 days late to be exact), and every single day leading up to your birth and after, I sang to you “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine […]”. To this day, this song makes you smile.

When you arrived, you were beautiful, curious and just so independent. You were always wide eyed and didn’t miss a beat from day one.  We loved that about you instantly (and even now), although at times it can be challenging.

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Throughout your first year, among other things, we travelled lots, made lifelong friendships, sang songs, started swimming, and watched you take your first steps (running from day 1), and as a family, we celebrated your “birth-months” with a new cupcake. Before long, I was headed back to work and you to your caregiver. You know, that was truly a tough transition. I was so worried about you, but of course, I knew that you needed this as much as I did. It’s positive and healthy.

It isn’t that I didn’t see you growing and maturing over the last 8 months, it’s just that this past week week it was different. I didn’t have the busyness of life, chores and work. I could just focus on you. This past week it hit me hard — you are growing up. Some days, it doesn’t even seem like you are a toddler, but more like a little girl (… of course this changes when we are trying to cool a tantrum).

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You show kindness, cooperation, politeness and compassion towards others and the baby doll you carried around Whistler rocking and singing (much like what we do for you.)  You insisted that your doll also join us for “ski-ng” (as you would say it). This past week you asserted your independence, and it was noticed. In fact a few commented ” isn’t it great having such a confident little lady!” “I am so drawn to her personality”. You showed how courageous you were in the swimming pool, trying so hard to stay afloat on your own and insisting that Papa and I let you go.

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It was really when you started speaking in short sentences over the last couple of weeks, reciting nursery rhymes like ABCs, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Mister Sun, andThe Wheels on The Bus, and reciting lines from your favourite story books (Carl and his fly pancakes!) that I started to reflect on how much you have blossomed.

Little Emy, I look forward to many more moments like this with you over the years to come. Never loose that sparkle you have or the curiosity in the world around you.

My promise is to always love you, guide you and help you to grow into a little girl and a lady who holds unto all of these great little qualities that make you so special to us.

Love Always
Your Mama 

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