Having a kid and turning 30 really has a way of making you think about the past. Last night was one of those moments of reflecting, but not in the typical, Hollywood sense of sitting with a mug of tea and daydreaming.
First let me start off with this: Liam is a crap sleeper.
He has good nights, but those are rare. Most of the time, it is a huge fight to get him to go to bed and stay asleep. Now that he can crawl and stand, all he wants to do is move. In fact, he often crawls in his sleep, which is disconcerting sometimes.
We’ve had a handful of good nights lately, but he started fighting again and last night was extremely rough. He wouldn’t sleep to Hamilton. Or disco. Well, he would, but only in my arms, which is no way for a mom to get any sort of rest. Last night we tried everything and it ended up with Liam laying between me and Chad, while Abba played on my phone, and Beatrix sat on Liam’s head.
While we were laying in that dark room with a sleep boycotting baby, I started cracking up. Why? Because 8 years ago I never would have thought I would have been listening to Abba in an attempt to get a baby to sleep. I never thought I would listen to a song by the character of King George threatening America in an attempt to get a baby to sleep. I never thought I would have a cat that would try to help get a baby to sleep by sitting on its head. Never never never.
In fact, I basically had my life planned out 8 years ago. I was going to get my graduate degree in psychology and head over to France to work with a youth organization. That was my plan, and I generally like sticking to The Plan. In May of 2009, I had it all laid out. I had my contacts in France, I was learning the language over the summer, I was researching how to move to another country. Exhausting work, really.
And then in August I met this guy. I had sworn off dating because it was all just some ridiculous game and I never felt anyone was truly serious. I only wanted to date if it would turn serious, and I soon learned he was for real.
A year and one month later we got married. Seven years after we met, we had a baby. And that baby led us to listen to Broadway musicals, German disco, regular disco, and 90s rap all in an attempt to get said baby to sleep.
Obviously, The Plan changed. In a huge way. I’m not in France, I doubt I’ll make it. But you know what? I’m not upset. I constantly see posts and articles about people that are so upset they didn’t fulfill their dreams by 30 but I realize that their dreams never grow or change with them. Those dreams stay the same while they get older.
My dreams changed. They didn’t get broken. Or destroyed. Some are still there, but overall, they all look different. Much like I look different.
Change is one of the hardest things, but it is also one of the best things. I am a much different person now than I was 8 years ago; we all are. I’m glad I allowed my dreams to change because here I am, wrangling a clingy baby while typing with one hand.
And I love it.