Time marches on

I have to balance that last post with a something a little more introspective and to show you that I am not 18 years old, I swear.  Tim and I attended a close friend's wedding in Kansas over the weekend (Hi S!~ It was gorgeous and lovely and you were stunning!!!  Have fun on your honeymoon!) and we sat at a table with the bride's sister's friends.  They were hilarious and an all around good time, but while we were sitting there and chatting I just kept thinking how they were older than I am, and man, they have KIDS, and families, and pee-wee football games to attend, and RESPONSIBILITIES.  And to our left was a table of young adults, early twenties, who were seemingly unencumbered by parenthood and those pesky responsibilites.  I kept thinking that we should be sitting with those people and not at the ADULT table.  I mean, we aren't ADULTS...or are we?  

We're parents now.  That's not to say that parents don't have fun (I had my fair share of the open bar and paid for it all day yesterday), but we're not free and loose like we might have been in the past.  And it hit me like a ton of bricks at the wedding.  We had something very much in common with the people at our table--our kid(s).  Having Noah and being solely responsible for him is a huge undertaking and has really forced me to "grow up" in these past months.  I no longer feel like I am playing house with Tim...we're actually living this life and truly enjoying it.  I look at the pictures my 21 year old brother puts up on his Facebook page and I reminisce about my own 21 year old experiences and for a few minutes I might pine for those days.  And then I look at Noah and see that my life has a different trajectory now.  As a parent, and therefore an adult (no matter how old you are when you have a baby, it makes you grow up), what I consider "fun" is morphing into something new.  Late nights out at the bar just don't exist for me anymore and that's ok.  My fun now involves making Noah laugh just so by tickling his cheeks.   Or blowing raspberries on his chubby belly.  And it is so fantastic.  

My love for all things silly and immature will always be there, just below the adult-like surface, this I can promise.  But from now on, it's Noah's job to be the child, and my job to show him how fun life can be.