From the puck to the world.

For most of my life I have never been the first at anything. I am the middle of three girls. As you can guess, my older sister beat me out in most of things, which was fine even expected. But when my little sister surpassed me in the first of many. I admit I was a bit jealous. She was the first to get married-of course we don't mention she was the first to divorce as well-She was the first to have a kid. Which I think hit my older sister more in the gut than myself.

So no I had never been the first at anything.

But I realized this weekend that I am the first at something. I am the first of my close friends to get married, to have a kid. No maybe it isn't with family. But with friends. The thought came to me last night, as one of my closest, oldest friends called to tell me she had gotten engaged to her boyfriend of nine months. I congratulated her as she asked me to be a bridesmaid, answering yes of course...

Of course being the first, means all that excitement has long since passed. The moments that they are looking forward to have come and passed. My husband of almost four years doesn't quite get the reason why this saddens me a bit. And maybe he shouldn't. Perhaps I am being a little jealous even. But there are times, when I miss that excitement. When I miss the look in my husband's eyes. Don't get me wrong he still looks at me, he still loves me. But it isn't the same look he had all those years ago.

Instead there is this comfort. This everyday routine that has come to be shared between the two of us. We come we go. We know each other. We work as one to raise our son. This sort of routine that my friends will soon be in themselves.

Maybe its not so much the fact that I was the first. But rather, a hope that me being the first, isn't my last.