Death, Retirement and Walkers...already?

Death. What do you think about when you think about death? Is it the saddening reality that you will ultimately leave everything familiar and enter that which you have never experienced? Well let me tell you, I've read the blog about baby Avery's Bucket List, and my mind just explodes with about a million what if's and I need to's and I seriously think my head will self-destruct while sobbing and carrying on in front of the computer while my husband just shakes his head.  However, as serious and saddening as this blog and death are, this not what I'm talking about. Ian is at the stage where he thinks it's funny to shoot people with his imaginary "shooter" and play dead. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this, I honestly thought we had bypassed this whole thing with the isolation of violent movies and violence in general. Seriously. I know, he's a boy and he does go to school, which is where he learns some the most wonderful things...ahem. It's not going to be life-altering or a major thing, it's just one of those things that I wish I could have bypassed had I had the chance.

Retirement. Well since we've moved on from any chance of you taking me seriously, check this one out. My daughter is 1 year old. Seriously. That is some serious business. Already she is  beginning her attempts of talking and has already given me a taste of what is to come (read: her attitude is atrocious). She flops her body back and stomps her foot (often losing her balance and falling right onto her bottom which then causes even more drama). It's great. I thought I had some more time before this happened. Apparently, I knew nothing. This makes me sad and very emotional. The icing on this drama filled cake, (I'd rather have some Bavarian creme filled something actually...) is that I had to retire my breast-pump and begin weening her. Sadness. When I first had Amelia and started to get into the sleep-deprived, constant crying groove, I was counting down the months until her first birthday and when I could ween her. Now, I want to rewind and do it all over. Remember, you're not taking me seriously... I'm crazy. But here we are weening and she's getting big and I'm sad all over again. Bummer. But I'm proud of my baby girl and all of her accomplishments and milestones, however emotional they make me.


Walkers. Whenever I think of walkers I think of those awful metal contraptions that old people use to walk that have tennis balls and make that creepy scrapping sound when it scootches on the floor. Well my walker does not make any creepy sounds (although some pretty awful smells come out of it occasionally) and it seems to follow me everywhere and always wants some food placed into it's mouth like it's a baby bird as if I'm the mother bird. Oh wait, I guess I am the mother bird and well my "walker" is my daughter. And, yep, you guessed it. I'm sad about that too. She isn't even walking anymore, it has graduated to a slow jog which makes me nervous and proud all at the same time.  I can't even believe this is where my life is right now. I mean that in a good way. I see her doing all these things, Ian doing all of his Ian things and feel completely stressed out but also very calm in knowing that this is exactly where I'm suppose to be.


So you see, students, death, retirement and walkers are not just for old people anymore. Definitely not. And in the words of my Ian,  "I wish you could take apart my head and see how it works, mama". Uh, me too, Ian. Me too. More than you actually know.