Early Bloomer

I've always been a bit ahead of myself age-wise. My mom told me the other day that I was able to say the pledge of allegience, my ABC's, and other amazing things when I was only 18 months old! I was walking at 7 or 9 months (I can't remember which). I have distinct detailed memories from my great-grandfather's funeral when I was 3--confirmed by relatives at the event. I breezed through school and then started 'adult' life earlier than most when I got married at 18.4 years old. No, I didn't 'have' to. No, people from the south don't get married younger (well, maybe statistically they do, but not in my social circle of the time). I just wanted to. I met a great guy, 5 years farther into adulthood, and I fell in love. We married and moved 500 miles away from my family.

After 3 whole years of marriage, which we both deemed long enough-by what or whose standards I don't know-we had our daughter. About 3 years later, our son. And with that I skipped right over college life and career struggle into 'mommyhood'. I still remember when my son started kindergarten. Watching the other moms sniffle and linger saying goodbye, I felt a more than a little guilty that I felt like whooping and celebrating over a few hours of freedom from the constant kid-tug at my leg. And I felt just a little rebellious for smiling at the thought of a few minutes of grown up time.

And then suddenly, here I am, an almost 'empty-nester' at the ripe young age of 42. My daughter married and moved out (thankfully both) in June. My son, though still living at home, between college, work, and girlfriend uses his room like an inexpensive motel room--sleep, shower, watch a little TV (in varying order) and leave. There is even that scary 'I could be a grandma' thought that surfaces now and then, even though my daughter and son are doing their best to delay that blessing for a while. And though I did sniffle a little (ok, a lot) at her leaving and I'm still lingering over letting go of both of them, there is a little part of me that is celebrating a little over the thought of this new kind of freedom and grown up time. Who knows-I might just do something amazing. At the very least, whoop it up a little.