Today im sitting here watching my kids eat lunch, two different meals because Edie has decided she doesn't want Mac and Cheese with hotdogs, but would prefer a ham sandwich, and I'm suddenly struck with the knowledge that being this weirdly happy with every aspect of my life is not normal.
I have two great kids. Edie is such a sweet heart and could melt the polar ice caps with one of her beaming smiles, and Gabe has such a charm to him that he too could could bring on a bout of global warming. There is challenges, of course, to parenting a one year and a two year old, but I would say the challenges are pretty typical. Neither one of my kids are sick, physically or mentally challenged and although Gabe is probably speech delayed Im confident with some intervention he'll be speaking clearly in no time.
I have a really wonderful guy as my husband. Anyone who meets him always states what a sweet guy he is and I got tell ya, it's not an act. He really is that sweet, nearly 24/7. He spoils the hell out of me, goes on pregnancy craving runs whenever I ask, and is a really good father (even if he does tend to shower a little more affection on his daughter, and little more rough play on his son).
He has a good paying job, even if in the past it has caused me a lot of anxiety and worry, and because of it we have managed to buy our very first home and a nice new car. We don't want for anything financially even if we still speak longly about owning a "real" piece of property, and not a few feet of strata land, to call our own. Scott dreams of the day we can plant our own garden and have our own fruit trees, and can't wait until the kids are old enough for us to own a dog. Our dreams I suppose are simple ones; but we are united in them. We plan to die on the same day, sometime in our late 90's and wish to never live a single day in grown up diapers.
I love my life. I love our dreams as a couple and as a family. And I pray that life will always remain this sweet and that we remain as lucky as we have been. But I have to admit that a little part of me; the part that watched my parents divorce, and a custody battle ensue, and my parents struggle to make ends meet, I have to admit that part of me has to wonder if I've gotten too lucky? A little voice tells me now and then to prepare for a fall because no one has what we have for long. I ignore that voice the majority of the time because it ruins the time I do have that is nice, and sweet, and perfect. And if that voice is right and no one is as lucky as Scott and I have been than I'm going to enjoy what I have while I have it. And what I have, right now, is a damned, charmed life.