I will be 34 tomorrow whether the sun comes up or not. I was thinking earlier about all the great things a 34 year old can do that a 33 year old can't. Yeah, there are none. And all the great places a 34 year old can go that a 33 year old can't. Nope. None of those either. So, what exactly is the point of turning 34? Just to mark the passage of time and orbits around the sun? I guess so. But I'm okay with that.
As Nathan was heading to bed tonight he sweetly said, "One more day of 33, Mom." He climbed in my lap, melted in like he's so good at doing, and wrapped his arms around me. "I'll never see my 33 year old Mom again" he mused. Tim and I laughed. What a funny little brain he has to put it in those terms. As I was still chuckling, I looked down and realized that he was crying. It was such a sad, funny, sweet moment. I said, "Nathan, you know that I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and be different than I was today, right?" He agreed and dried up the tears.
On the one hand, he made me feel really old -like he thinks turning 34 clearly means death is eminent. But on the other hand, I felt incredibly loved by a little boy who likes his Mamma and doesn't want her to change too much from one year to the next.
Here's hoping I don't wake up with two noses on my face. That'll really mess the kid up.