Youth

Because I finally own a scanner that works, I thought I'd add this little darling here.

 Me and Laura circa 1991. 

So I guess that puts me at 11 here. Seems kinda young, especially because my hair was so damn long and I don't remember it that way at all. In fact, it looks really pretty here and I always believed (actually told) I had really ugly thick hair. To be fair, though, I was also told my hair was beautiful, but like I was ever gonna buy that...I mean, I was a young, insecure girl. Girls like that always believe the bad stuff. Anyway--this picture is priceless for so many reasons...one being Laura's hair, another being our teeth, and the last being a glimpse into a time when I was so super close to this girl that we could actually finish each other's sentences. We also got on each other's nerves a whole helluva lot, but it was always resolved with some good wrestling matches or one of us pretending to be having so much fun that the other would always give in and start talking just to share in the fun, too.

I miss those days. I miss her, I miss me. I miss the goofiness of just being a kid and rollerskating all day, or going to La Esquina to buy some Now and Laters and a Dr. Pepper. I miss playing Barbies and building forts out of blankets and chairs. I still build forts for the boys now, but somehow it's different. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I am 40 pounds heavier, and (a few) inches taller, but I feel like I don't fully belong there. 

So I guess it could be said that I miss being a kid.

I would love to go back and talk to me and tell me that everything is going to work out.

I would love to say that given the chance, I'd do things differently. I'd stay in school, I wouldn't waste my time with certain guys, I'd exercise and keep the friendships that matter to me.

But...

The life I'm living now is a result of circumstance, and the specific circumstances I've gone through have brought me my husband and my children. To risk the chance of losing even one part of this life wouldn't be worth it. Besides, I've got incredible stories that one only gets by f&*#ing up once in a while.

So even if I was living in New York studying Art History at NYU, going on auditions during the day, renting a loft with my artist boyfriend with the long, dark, wavy hair....even then it wouldn't be worth it. Oh no, not even then.

(And if that last sentence didn't make any sense it's because only Laura and my IH would get it.)

So off to rest. I need the rest to build up my milk supply and have some energy to build a fort where I feel I do belong.