The other night, my husband and I were looking through some old photos of us from our pre-parent days. We were laughing and remembering stories that we haven’t talked about in years. It was getting late, so we wrapped up and went to brush our teeth.
We stood in front of our double sinks and tried not to be too obvious about the critical observations we were making.
The lighting seemed harsh. {Honey, did you accidentally buy 300 watt bulbs?}
These two faces staring back at us didn’t look like the ones in the photographs we just spent an hour sifting through. Heck, they barely looked like the faces on my camera card, from two years ago. We were both trying to be polite and focus on our own worn features, but our eyes kept wandering to the other one’s reflection.
As I applied extra eye cream I finally said aloud, “It’s because we’re doing it right.”
Jordan smiled. He knew exactly what I meant. Our first couple of years parenting had apparently aged us by about five.
Similarly to how a child’s growth spurt can go unnoticed until they reach something on the counter, our changes were flying under the radar.
I’m so used to looking at Jordan that he may as well be an extension of me.
We’ve grown up together since meeting in college, at eighteen and nineteen years old. We met in Western Civilization II, for which neither of us had the prerequisite, Western Civ I. Thank God for the scheduling confusion and the guidance counselors who assured us that we had been waived into the class. It was the only time we saw each other on campus.
Earlier today, I caught a glimpse of my nineteen year old boyfriend. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him that I still see him the way I did when we first fell in love. I thought of a story, from our younger years, to tell.
I made sure that our son was able to watch me talk about his dad with a twinkle in my eyes.
Jordan’s hair has gradually faded to a distinguished salt and pepper. He opts out of sleep quite often because he has presentations to finish and doesn’t want to miss out on Tim-time in the evenings or early on weekend mornings.
It must be the compilation of great responsibility, less sleep and the passing of time {okay, and the existence of gravity} that has begun taking a hold of me. Age doesn’t get any credit for these creases around my mouth, though.
Nope, these laugh lines are a direct reflection of my kid – a parenting perk – and I wouldn’t erase them for the world.
