what's missing

So, I have to tell you about my weekend.

I snuck out with baby girl on Saturday leaving my flu-ridden husband and son to do some grocery shopping.

I went to two stores, strategically chosen based on price and availability of what I was looking for.  I decided that since the rest of my weekend would consist of cleaning up after the sickness of others, canning, and (although I didn't know it then) being sick myself, I deserved a special once-a-month treat of a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks.

I'm sure you agree.

So, an hour after heading out, I found myself in a line at Starbucks in front of 3 young women, all who looked approximately like this.

Seriously.

They were gorgeous.  Exotic faces and shiny dark hair, perfectly fashionable outfits, waists approximately the size of my left thigh ordering mochas with no milk, sugar or cream (ok, that part may be a bit of an exaggeration...).  But, if I were a man, I would've totally been drooling.

And, there I was.  Dingy shorts and t-shirt, flip flops, hair throw up on top of my head (I think I had recently showered, but I'm not too sure about that...) and a baby literally attached to me via sling.

I was thinking about canning and cleaning up sickos and the forty-seven times I had already washed all the linens this weekend and the girls were talking about getting written up for some risque adventure yet to come.

And it hit me.  I am O.L.D.  Holy cannoli.

Of course, I'm probably made older by using phrases like holy cannoli...

It really struck me, in that moment, how much has changed in ten years.  Now, I was never a fashion model, but ten years ago, I would've been wearing something much cuter that I would've paid ten times what it was actually worth and actually had my hair done and spent as much money as I wanted to at the grocery store because I ONLY had to worry about myself.

And I had a moment of missing that time.  No cares.  No worries.  Complete freedom.

But, the thought quickly fled.  That time wasn't free.  It wasn't empty from cares, they were just different types of cares.  College and volleyball and dating and future and myself in general...all unknowns.  I hated that.  And, it was lonely.

And now, my unknowns are knowns.  Or at least, more of them are.  I know I have a home and a job and a family and a life that I truly love.

A family.

That crazy bunch of people whom I love so much, I'm willing to clean up the most disgusting of messes for.

Those people waiting for me at home and that baby strapped to my chest that made me smile at those girls with a knowing smile rather than a jealous one, and think, "man, you guys just don't know what you're missing, but I sure hope you get to experience it someday."