I must be nuts…

that’s the only explanation for sitting in the pouring rain for four hours, in a field, in the middle of no where, watching young men with the beginnings of testosterone toxicity kick a ball up and down a field!! And as I’m sitting there, cold, wet, hungry and determined not to have to make a visit to the disgusting outhouse bathroom if I can help it, I start doing the mental math to determine how many more years of this I have exactly? Let’s see, my daughter is 5. If she starts playing I could potentially have 10 to 13 more years of losing my weekends to driving to hidden soccer fields, with a Mapquest map that apparently feels State Route numbers are optional. 13 more years of buying snacks and drinks for the team and praying I didn’t screw up and forget my week. 13 more years of dragging my soccer mom chair to games, and probably 13 more years of praying for lightening and thunder so the game can be called and we can go HOME!!

And then I start to think, well, what if she is NOT the youngest. What if by some chance, some divine intervention, there is one more…I shudder to think that would raise the number to about 18 more years. While other ladies my age will be having face lifts and hip replacements, I’ll still be checking the team schedule for information on picture day!!

And I don’t know how to feel about that. For all the griping, I really enjoy watching my kids play – they enjoy it so much. AND I know that when it’s all over I’m really going to miss the busyness of this time in my life. But these thoughts are maybe just covering up the core thought of whether I’m going to get another chance at all of this again or not. Maybe I really am nuts for thinking about it.

I’ve got a milestone birthday coming up in a few weeks… ugh. And this one feels like a ton of bricks. Oh ladies have babies at my age for sure, but it’s that magic number where people start getting images of the biblical Sarah and Elizabeth. Part of me thinks that having a stillbirth last time is God’s way of saying, “Enough already!” or it could just be a test. or Maybe it was just an unfortunate circumstance that God just allowed as a consequence of free will, and that’s that. I don’t really care to live through that experience again though.

On the other hand, I have heard several women that I admire say that the only thing they ever regretted was not having more children. I sure don’t want that to be me.

It seems we are choosing not to choose however. Whatever happens happens and we’ll be fine with it. Still there’s a possibility that nothing will happen and that’s almost as scary to me as if something does. What an odd time of life this is?!

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