As I glanced at you this morning and reminded you to brush your hair, it hit me how crazy our life has become. When I tried to mention it to you, you just rolled your eyes and continued brushing your teeth. You seem to do this to me a lot nowadays - the rolling of the eyes bit. I notice it at the gym, while I try to lose this pregnancy belly that annoys me to no end. I notice it when I try to hide in the bathroom, to get some peace and quiet at the end of the day while chaos breaks out between dinner and bedtime.
Gone are the days when we had time for ourselves - time to play, time to chat. Now I hardly have time to greet you, and some days I wonder if you are still there. Some days I miss you more, miss the time we spent together when we were little. Growing up, you were the one who was always there for me, regardless of where we moved. The girl in the mirror... In our teens we commiserated together when the rest of the world didn't get it. You always understood me, and never told me I wasn't acting my age... even when you pointed out I didn't look it. You used to roll your eyes back then too... (Remember when we were out shopping and the shop assistant would try to tell me things would fit better in a few years when I turned 15? I was 15!)
We've been through so much together! Moving back and forth over the equator, living with family and without. You still insinuate that I don't look old enough to be who I am, or do what I do - and I sure don't think you have aged much either. But we really did make it through college and grad school. We've been hopping from postdoc to postdoc for the last few years in order to keep doing research. And, somehow, that other part of life caught up with us in the meantime... and we managed to integrate it to the scientist's life that we thought could define us by itself.
A scientist, a wife, a mother - you amaze me on a daily basis... I watch your kids playing with my kids, I see your family smiling at mine. I know you will always be there for me, no mater how crazy life turns out to be. You'll keep me focused and heading forward. And when I wonder how I got to this place and time, you'll roll your eyes at me. But if I ever ask you if this is the life I want, please point out the obvious: If I had the choice, I would travel the exact same road again - hindsight and all...