I've grown older. By a bit. And it seems strangely poignant that on the eve of another birthday, I find myself back at this blog. So hello dear reader, or Id... whoever is at the other end of this conversation. Let me reacquaint my self with you. Somewhere along the meandering path that is the act of Living, I have had three kids. Life has been generous and beautiful. It has also been humbling. Teaching as it does, through experience and example. The parenting watch has its moments of joy and sublime happiness (often appreciated post event and definitely after everyone is in bed!) and life has largely been very kind. So, Cosmos, no complaints there. 

But if there was the slightest niggling feeling, a thought that nagged briefly before being chased away, it would be this: who are you now and what do you stand for?

Somewhere in the past 20 years, where we got educated as women and empowered through that exposure, we began to wonder what one's 'mission statement' amounted to. We were lead to believe that the world was indeed an open oyster and ours to conquer. Somewhere along the way, we (rightly) wanted it all. The career, the kids, the larger-than-life life... and like all conquering heroes, we set about achieving it . We didn't care for ageing wombs and ticking biological clocks and the vagaries of actual living. 

And then we did. 

We wanted the children, the timely flowers on counter tops, roast in the pot, a slowly sipped cup of tea and light fiction that is actually being read on the bedside table. We wanted to soccer mom, drive the SUV's maddeningly across highways, tend to bruised knees, finish last-minutes homework assignments and manage that over arching teenage angst. And we did it as well and as good as we could. And then somehow in a blur that time passed. The kids grew up, they ALL got headphones, and learnt to slam doors in a way that was perfectly poised between 'insult' and 'the wind caught that'. We were left to return older, tired players onto the field of living; slower and sluggish at all those moves that ran and won us our first innings. The bones ached now, sleep was a restless beast and don't even start on those bladder-induced runs. Tea was a 24/7 crutch. 

And one random Monday morning the question caught up with you again. Who are you now and what do you stand for?

You love your idiots Of course you do! Other than the fact that someone has to, they actually are amazing little (soon-to-be-big) people. But what about the you of youth? 

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