Mature

We were at my in-laws this weekend. Tim is doing a big project for them, heavy equipment and all. It was a fun weekend for the boys. Big piles of dirt-old shoes to get muddy, movies once it got chilly. I helped some, looked after the boys some, and hung out with my other Mom some too. We don't do that enough anymore. We used to go to their church and go over every Sunday for Sunday dinner. But we go to a church in our town and don't do the Sunday dinner thing very often with them anymore.

She looked at me at one point and said, "You look different. What's different?"

"I just got my hair cut," I offer. I'm thinking that what little make up I put on early in the day is probably worn off at this point too, but I don't think she's looking at that.

She kind of shakes her head. "I think you're just looking more mature."

"Mature?" I ask. I'm thinking she thinks I'm looking old, but just wants to put it gently.

"Yeah, more mature."

I'm not quite sure how to take that so I say, "Well, I am in my thirties you know!"

She's thoughtful as she says, "It was hard to watch my boys grow up, but I didn't know it would be hard to watch my daughters-in-law grow up too."

She really has seen me grow up, she's known me since I was 16, more than half my life.

And while I don't really like to be told I'm looking older (but I am, I see it too), her words touched me. She really does love me like she would a daughter, and I love her like I do my own Mom. And we are both madly in love with her son.

I hope to be just like her when I grow up! She has four boys too, you know!