We need to start believing each other

Yesterday on the phone, Marianne and I were lamenting the busy-ness of the business of teenagers.  We had no idea it would be like this.

We shouldn't be surprised though.

We had no idea how our lives would be altered when we became mothers in the first place.  Women I worked with when I was pregnant with Braeden clucked over my pregnant stomach saying kind things like, "I was never that cute when I was pregnant."  (Trust me, I wasn't cute.) And they would say, "Your life is about to change."

Yeah.  Maybe.  How different could it be, except I'd have a new little baby?

Oh boy.

Then there were all the people that said to enjoy that baby stage/toddler stage/preschool stage because it all goes so fast.

I didn't see that happening.  My life was a series of long exhausting days.  Nothing was going fast.

I talked to my friend Frances about this very thing last night after book club.  People tried to explain it all to us.  We didn't understand.

Now, I remember people telling me life with teenagers was busy.  I think I flat out didn't believe that.  Busy?  The kids can buckle their seatbelts, dress themselves, feed themselves, bathe themselves.  Having teenagers was going to Easy City and I was going to be the mayor.

But, like predicted, it's busy.  Sometimes it's so busy I look at the week's schedule and wonder if it's humanly possible.  (It is humanly possible, I'm just a constant work in progress trying to figure it out.)

The other day I was on the phone with my grandma.  She told me that her dad always told her not to get old.  "He would say it was h-e-l-l," she said, "But he didn't spell it."

Despite his warnings, she's soon to be 85.

So we should believe each other.  Or not.  Because it's not going to really change anything.  It's just life.  Full of experiences that stretch us and teach us, trouble us and yes, delight us.

I'm grateful for the ride.