Tonight I was looking through a few scrapbook pages I've been working on. (Yes, I do occasionally craft. I just try not to make a habit of it.) My current project is from a family vacation to the Caribbean in 2009. Maybe it was those soothing pictures of the clear turquoise water. Or the memories of the warm sand beneath my feet. Could it be the bottle of wine I just consumed? (Just kidding--I'm stone-cold sober. I only sound like I've been drinking.) All I know is: I had an epiphany.
Yes, I complain about giving up the dreams I had for my golden years. And I certainly don't have the energy required to clean up or chase after two kids for ten more years. Just the thought of arranging another playdate or birthday party, attending another school open house or PTA meeting, or God forbid hosting another sleepover, sends my blood pressure to a level never-before recorded in the history of mankind. But these girls bring true joy into my life. Not the joy I was looking for at this age. Joy I wasn't expecting. And it feels good.
For now. I might have a different story to tell after they wake up in the morning.