turning 37

 the year i turned 27 was a tough one for me....
that was the year matt and i talked and prayed and decided to start having a family. 

i was feeling old. 27 seemed so close to 30. sigh. 

this year i turned 37 and i found myself having similar feelings. 

37 seems so close to 40. 

and right now i am in the throes of raising kids...kids who need something from me all. day. long. 

a baby who poops in the tub, a baby who screams at me when she wants something because she has no words, a son who is constantly wanting from me. more from me. always more. and a daughter who wants adventure and something to look forward to daily. i cook meals, i wash laundry, i read stories, i clean up, constantly bending over and picking up. i try to do these things with a smile but lately it has been getting to me. 

i was starting to feel lost. 

and there is always the feeling around the middle of may that july 7th is looming. 

finn's birthday is coming. my body remembers and a kind of slump starts to happen in my heart. 

so when matt asked me what i wanted for my birthday i knew right away what i wanted. something that had been brewing inside of me for over a year. i wanted to make sure i really wanted it though before i got it. 

and so when he asked me i said with confidence "i want a new tattoo." 

so we made the appointment and got a sitter for the kids one evening and we were able to go together. 

jay has done several of matt's best tattoos and i knew that i wanted him to do mine. 

it turned out just the way i had hoped. and i love it. 

i loved doing something for me. 

i felt clearer and more inspired and most importantly i love that my whole family is on my body. 

i love that. i really truly do. 

the first two birds are matt and i, the third one is finn, flying towards heaven with wings outstretched...perfect...the last three are my babies soaring after us. each unique in the way they are flying. 

it hurt. inside and out. 

it was a test of will sitting there letting someone scratch ink into your skin, but it's a strange kind of good pain. 

a pain that let's you think about what you are doing and why and what this all means. 

i liked sitting there thinking about the days in the future when the birds look like little brown blobs and my grandchildren climb up onto my lap as i am about to read them a story and they say to me, "nan, what are those?" 

and i can tell them..."baby, that is my family. your family. let me tell you our story."