I am a naturally jealous person. I sincerely cannot help it. I'm not one of those people that throws a fit when I see something that someone else has, but a part of me just sort of breaks.
Some examples. My friend Deborah gets to travel a lot and see all these awesome places. I haven't taken a vacation since I flew under my parent's wings. But that was a pretty dope vaca, so I'm still buzzing off of it ten years later.
Mary Anne can run like the wind without even looking out of breath. Her body was built for running. Mine was built for power lifting VW Bugs and to look awkward in boat-neck shirts.
Some people have these blogs that are out of this world amazing. They do cool projects, take amazing photos, and speak some serious truth. I usually end up rambling. Which is sort of happening right now.
Everyone around me has at least one degree, most working on their second. I'm doggy paddling in the university pool just hoping to make it to the other end by age 30.
And my last incredibly silly one: people get to own homes. They get to paint the walls, tear out carpet, re-do guest baths. And I get to live in a house that has an expiration date to it. Why put up shelves when I know they have to come down in two years? And what if they don't fit into our next home? Why waste my time?
But then, I remember. We don't own a home, because it's not our time. I'm not done with school, because I am taking a slower route in order to focus on bringing up this family. I can't run as fast as Mary Anne, but I am teaching her to read. Okay, that last one is a lie.
It's nice to know that some of those things listed above will eventually happen. For the others, it's just a matter of accepting my life, as is. And remembering that the things of this world are fleeting. You can't take it with you, but you can force your husband to bury you with all your designer shoes. They weren't cheap and I refuse to look ugly at my funeral.
Oh, BTDubs: I have completely lost my mind and will be doing some homeschool curriculum with Milo over the next few months in order to prep him for kindergarten. I guarantee this will all blow up in my face, so be sure tune in the next time as we prepare to enter the world I promised Justin I would never ever ever go. (You think I would have figured out by now that whenever I say "never ever ever", it's pretty much a sure thing it's gonna happen.)