It had been a rough start to the day - whining, crying, fussing, fighting - enough to make me want to just cancel all of our plans and hibernate while the freshly fallen snow covered the city in a white, icy blanket. We got home and I made the boys breakfast, slicing banana and blueberry bagel for Carter, a Nutrigrain bar, banana and Carnation Instant Breakfast (or as he likes to call it, "Chocolate Milk") for Logan. They were quiet and content for the moment, the irritations from the morning subsided.
I sat in the living room and opened the laptop to read emails, facebook and check stats while the kids were happily inhaling their food behind me. After wishing friends 'Happy Birthday', finding out that playgroup had been canceled and receiving an email of thanks for a review I wrote for a restaurant, a sudden feeling of optimism came over me. This next year is going to be amazing. My 30's are going to be the best years of my life, I thought to myself.
I have no idea why I thought this, especially since the morning had been nothing short of hell. But I did, and I felt strongly about it. Maybe it's because everything seems to be coming together - financial stability, parenting confidence, a sense of purpose outside of motherhood, a stronger and happier family that we've grown to be (and continue to work on). Maybe it's because we've reached a level of adulthood where we are more capable and still able to have a lot of fun. Maybe it's because we've been able to help others more than we ever have before. Maybe at this moment I've found the balance in life that I've been striving for.
Before this morning I used to dread turning 30 - feeling old, noticing gray hair and more stressed than a person should be at my age. Now, I'm looking forward to it. With all of the years of anxiety, stress and deep sadness for things that have happened, I'm being optimistic that this next year will be the best I've ever had.