Saturday, October 15, 2016

I Thought You'd Be Taller.

Dear Me,
I thought you’d be taller.
I thought you’d be thinner, and maybe have figured out how to style your hair.

I thought you’d be a detective, a pediatric dentist or a wedding photographer.

I thought you’d never settle down into a stationary home again. I thought you were going to live the rest of your life traveling the world, quickly blowing through the US and moving on to explore all of Europe. I thought you’d be kind of a bum, working when you were able to and giving most of that money away. I thought you’d like that.

I thought you might join a women’s dance troupe.

I thought you were going to join the seminary and lead all-girl youth groups to Calvary.

I thought you’d have more friends.

I thought you weren’t going to have children.
I thought you were going to have three children, all epidural-free.
I thought you were done after one child.
I thought you were going to have four children.
I thought you said you were done. I thought you brought home pamphlets on tubal ligations and vasectomies.  

I thought you were going to open up a portrait studio in your backyard. I thought you were going to start a t-shirt line. I thought you were planning to run a Jeep merchandise store.

I thought you were going to plan a “Healthy Halloween Bash” to host in your backyard. I’m pretty sure you declared it was “really important” to you and would be an annual thing.

I thought you were going to get back into running 5ks. I thought you said women who claimed running after having children made them pee were just making excuses not to exercise. I thought you said you were going to start jogging when your third baby hit the eight week mark.

Don’t you know by now that life isn’t meant to be plotted out so carefully? It’s meant to be lived. I thought you would know that by now.

And I thought you’d be taller.

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Thanks so much for your comments! I always read them, don't always have time to answer quickly. Sorry about that!