High School Dreams

For real?  This is my life?  I can't express how many times those thoughts go through my head.  Sometimes John and I speak them to each other, 

"I can't believe he's REAL."  

In high school I remember loving life and anticipating what my future held.  I wanted my own home, husband and child(ren).  I remember expressing this out loud and in my journal.  I still think about that one journal entry for junior english.  I wrote about my desire, my longing, for these things.  Not for the future.  For the right now.  

Somewhere deep inside, I didn't see that being the way my life would go.  I saw me being single, having a fun job, doing fun things, having fun friends.  Going and coming.  A part of me wanted that as well.  There was fun and joy there as well. 

My English teacher, who I adored, wrote something in reply to that journal entry (oh how I loved feedback).  It made me realize I had time to work on that and I had time to enjoy at the present.  And so I did.  I enjoyed it.  High school.  College.  Enjoyed the path I was on.   

The path was fun.  There I found: Fun. Going & coming. Friends. College. Boy. Marriage. Fun. Baby.  Another baby.  And I'm happy.  And part of me feels like this isn't real.  Like, how did I get this?  What happened?  

When I tote Burl along in the heat of running errands, when he walks around (and on) my feet during dinner prep, when I give in and give him a little snack to "make it to dinner," I enjoy him.  

My little buddy.  

The freedom to stay home with him.

And John asks me, "is it hard?  do you get tired of having someone hang on to you,"  I don't remember those times I get aggravated.  Instead, I remember that I never thought this would happen and I remember that I couldn't imagine that it could be this fun.