Conversations

It's been a good but busy weekend so far.
I've eaten too much in the UK, and roughly now weigh the same as I did when I was 6 months pregnant with Son#3.
How does one put on 3 kg in just 4 days???
My face is puffy.
And it's not fluid retention as I keep telling myself.
Own up to the truth, Yo!!  
 
Time to start skipping sizable meals, I guess.

The husband is going to New Orleans in March if we survive December 23rd.
This morning we talked about getting older and change and excitement after telling the kids to go and entertain themselves in front of the TV.
I love that TV.

Anyway, back to my point.
I was utterly convinced that at 40 I would have everything under control, be sure of who and what I was, had achieved all I set out to.
Not quite 40 yet, still 2 years to go, but I can't imagine that I'll be winning academic scholarships in the next two years.
(Hide your guffaws, puh-lease)
Won't very well be an expert in my field.

And I don't know if I feel negative about it - I don't think I do.
Perhaps it's just a happy acceptance that things don't always go as planned.

And thank goodness for that.
If that were the case I would have ended up with boyfriend#1, Andrew, and he had a few nuts and bolts on the loose, with swinging palms that bumped into my cheeks on one or two occasions.
Sigh.
Thank the stars for small mercies.

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