i wonder how much of me you will remember. hopefully, our blog will keep the memories somewhat fresh. hopefully, the things that need to be forgotten will have been and you can smile at me in fondness.
hopefully, when you talk to people, you have gotten to the point where you actually finish your sentences instead of leaving...
them...
adrift...
you know what i mean?
i think of you every once in a while. i wonder what it's like having children who, as of 2 days ago, will now officially all be in the double digits. i wonder if you've succumbed to the dreaded mom bob. please tell me that you haven't become complacent and begun to wear any mom jean/pants of any type. but, if you have, please let this be a reminder that i don't care what decade it is, they are never, ever cool.
do they have futuristic spandex?
it may seem somewhat tempting, but trust me, even though i have been momentarily tempted by the awful fad of the skinny jean, it doesn't work. i'm not built for it. and i can assure you, you're 41 year old self will not be built for futuristic spandex.
okay. there. i can breathe now that that is off my chest.
i hope that when i finally stand in your shoes, i find that you laugh more. you love deeper. you have given up the awful drug of worry.
that you are no longer afraid to love each of your children with abandon.
that tony walks out the door most mornings with his tushie pinched.
that you embrace the mornings.
embrace the laughter.
embrace the sorrow.
embrace your own bed time.
that you don't see your children's growing independence as a sign to begin to slack off.
you'll probably have lines on your face. ones that come with experience rather than that morning not so long ago when you woke up to livie drawing all over your face and arm.
that was fun.
i hope you haven't forgotten that...
i can't wait to see the lines. let them be lines of laughter.
more than anything, when i stand in your shoes 10 years from now, i hope that i find that you love the Lord Jesus more deeply, more intimately than you did at this very moment.
that the paths i walked through this year started you on a journey that find you lost in Him.
i can't wait to meet you. i can't wait to see where He is taking us. i can't wait to see what the seeds He's planted now have grown into.
i can't wait to see how amazingly handsome tony looks. seriously. that man is going to age well. you lucky girl - you already know.
happy birthday to the decade older me.
love,
your 31 year old self, kimberley.
