I have a fairly grand personal wish list. Like an ultimate to-do list. Nothing on it is material – it’s not about possessions, but all about experiences, and places, and doing. Some things involve the kids, like spending Christmas in New York, showing them parts of the world. But some things I want to be free to do both alone and with Mr.42.
You know, a couple of months in Tuscany for example, cycling to the markets and sampling all the food, cooking, reading, swimming, and sleeping. Following the sun. For which of course, time is required, along with a certain amount of freedom. Occasionally, it’s frustrating that I can’t attack some of the things on my wish list as aggressively as I would have before I had two little people who need me.
But I’m happy to some of the bigger plans on the back burner, and chip away at what I can, when I can. As I get older I’m gaining patience, and accept that my wish list isn’t going anywhere. My time will come – and when it does, it will feel like the right time anyway.
Time and a place for everything.
And until then, what was always, always at the very top of my wish list is what matters the most. Raising these two precious boys of mine to be confident, happy, respectful, and resilient young men. Who already in their short lives have taught me what life is really about, and allowed me to experience a depth of emotion, an understanding, that I never possessed before.
They’re just so beautiful.