Each year, in my journal on my birthday (or the day before) I recount how the year’s gone, and how I feel I’m doing in my goals.
Where did I think I’d be at 30. I think, in the back of my mind, growing-up 30 was my “goal” — be married, have kids the white pickett fence and all that jazz.
Is this how I thought my life would be? No.
I had no idea what motherhood would take from me, I don’t know WHAT I really envisioned my career being. Did I have a clue that scrapbooking would be the part of my life that it is now? No.
Did I know how much I would love being a mother? DEFINATELY not. I so enjoy all these moments with my little guys. I can’t believe the things we share. And two boys — frankly, kids — that was never in the picture back when I was 12.
Actually, in the big picture of things — this is exactly where I thought I’d be at 30. Happy at home. I think as you look back, all those little things don’t really matter quite as much — just bumps, or jumps in the road.
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