It’s funny how I can stay away for months from the blogosphere, but as soon as it’s time for me to write an essay, my cursor seems to get a will of its own and find its way to the WordPress Dashboard… heedless of whether or not I actually have something to say!
I’m approaching my 26th birthday… and I can tell you I’m not looking forward to it. Time’s going way too fast (I’m actually writing about how we use metaphors to discuss time right now… or… I’m supposed to write about it ), and I’m not ready for the physical changes. No seriously… isn’t it when you’re approaching 30 that facial creams start getting more expensive because now you have to buy the ones that fight the fine lines?
I’ll be honest, as a teen I always dreamt that I’d have a family pretty early. Well… I also expected to be done with studies and have a proper job at 22/23. Yes I know, I laugh at my younger self too. Back in those days, I had the curse of naïvety on me and I didn’t understand much about politics or economy to predict that things will look terribly bad for gen Y in Sweden. At least I’m not alone – I have classmates older than me.
It’s funny though… I always thought that Swedes had children late… and now when I’m 25 all I see are mothers (sometimes much) younger than me. What’s even worse is that I, who have been child-loving since I was a child myself (there’s a picture of me as a three year old pushing a toy-pram with my baby cousin in it), am actually starting to consider children as overestimated. Like what’s so special about having a kid anyway? Almost everybody has one at some point in life. I doubt midwives would tell you every childbirth is unique. Now, before I get the angered attention of first-time mothers and overzealous fathers (do keep in mind I myself have witnessed a childbirth), just think about my situation here alright? I have a right to justify and glorify my single life *breaks down hysterically and grabs the nearest bag of salted bliss*!
On a serious note, before this year ends I might not be living with my nephews anymore. And that’s terrifying. I’d rather have Rayan’s scratches, Lillan’s bites and Eron’s drool all day than live without them. But I still stand by my previous statement because my nephews aren’t like other kids – they’re special ^_^ .