Getting Lost.

My youngest is turning two Monday. My last and final kid. He is my last first step. Last first word. Last first everything.

All things about that is both satisfying and saddening.

With the end of my "baby era" begins a new era for me. My thirties. The decade I'd like to affectionately dedicate to myself.

Next month in October I will be turning 30 and I can't wait. I feel like a new season is about to begin. I have joked around and told people that I will be too old to make the same stupid (really stupid) mistakes I made as a twenty something year old.

You know, that Sarah who was suddenly a mother trying to sort out some pretty hefty life lessons. Or the Sarah who is 22 and trying to still "be young" while changing diapers. No, that Sarah is long gone (thank goodness). Right, I'm too old for that. But I am still young enough to accomplish so many things. I can still start a career. I can finish school. I can work on making it back to ME again.

See, I lost myself somewhere between midnight feedings and afternoon coffees. Somewhere in between being on my husband's arm and playing a dual role when he's gone- I vanished.

For the majority of ny adult life I was simply his wife or their mother.

Woah.

I lost who I am as an individual. I sought (and often time still seek) validation through my husband. I venture off in my children's lives hoping to find me again. But I will never find Sarah, the woman, in their lives. I need to find her in my own time and in my own world.

I may not find her tomorrow or even in the next year. But when I do, it will be like greeting an old friend.  I will be a new person with the same face,  and I will embrace her tightly.  Life changes just like the seasons, and I'm ready for the next one.