There are those few moments in life that make you stop what you're doing, look around, and say to yourself "Is this really MY LIFE?".
It's 8:59pm on a mid-summer Friday night. I'm sitting curled up on my nice new (but not too comfy) couch. I glance around the living and dining room at all my favorite things: My wedding pictures framed and matted showcasing not only my favorite photo of me and my husband, but of our beautiful little boy looking so handsome in his tan suit with his blond curly locks shining in the summer sun. I see the over sized vintage metal clock that I love hanging in the dining room. Every time I look at it I never actually process the time, just how much I really like it, and the thought of how much my husband really doesn't care for it.
I see the freshly painted walls that seem to be the perfect palate for the color of our world to be splashed upon. Too bad the doors in their awkward color are such focal points - I think something needs to be done about that color, it's just not pretty.
I can hear the fan in the master bedroom on high to create a steady sound so the kids won't wake up. The boy is 4 and the baby girl is 1. I know that I am blessed in so many ways...They smile, give kisses and "lovey", they're strong and so very smart, but I've struggled on a daily basis to past the moments of tension and to really take in all the blessings around me.
My boy has been called Turbo since he was born, his daddy is a car fanatic, so "Turbo" seemed to fit. As for baby girl, for some reason I've always her "Chica". Not sure why, we're not Latino but for some reason as with Turbo, the name just seemed to stick.
Friday night, 9:20pm. My husband is out and about running errands that couldn't wait (taking a tool to my parent's house for my brother to use - ya...).
It's 9:22pm on Friday night. I'm sitting on the couch knowing that my blessings are safe and sound sleeping in their rooms. Why do I think that I'm missing out on something... that somethings missing. I'm 22 years old, have two beautiful babies, a loyal but not home husband and pictures hanging on my walls that make me smile.
My days are consisted of normal repetitive adventures. Wake up, shower, get dressed, fix hair, feed kids breakfast, drop off kids at day-care, go to work, pick up the kids, come home, fix dinner, eat, clean up, do laundry, get kids ready for bed, clean the house, go to sleep and start all over again.
I should be glad that I have a routine - I should be glad to be able to know what tomorrow will bring. But even knowing what will come with the sun rise, I still feel like somethings missing.
Maybe one day I'll wake up, see the beautiful smile on my little one's faces and be able to see in their eyes what's missing in my life - after all, the truth to life lies with those who's souls are least judgemental and see the world for exactly for what it is.
I am surrounded by nice things and loving little ones, but there is still something missing inside of me; and thus is the beginning of the story of my life. - Rocket20
