I was recently told that 25 or 26 is a good age to have kids. I'll be 27 in less than six months, and I'll tell you that children will not be springing forth from my loins in any sort of hot minute. I've pondered being concerned, but came to the conclusion that I'm not.
I've lived my life a little backwards. Did college, did single life, did cohabitation and life-starting, then quickly retreated. Now I'm here. Eating dinner on my couch, cross-legged in front of Good Eats with Alton Brown on the Food Network.
I park my bike in my living room, toss my running shoes under the coffee table. I vacuum for company and hang sports bras from the bathroom doorknobs. My favorite meal in recent history was sushi from Pick N Save with a quart of chocolate milk. I drank it from the jug.
I fall asleep on the couch, talk out loud to my cats, put on makeup in the nude and hog the bed. It's not even a bed, it's a futon. I live in a studio with some fancy furniture I received in the custody battle.
This is my life. I sometimes wonder if it's sad, or if I should have more, but the truth is, I'm satisfied. Sure, I'd enjoy a stocked refrigerator, but I have a career. An expensive education that I'm paying for. Close friends live around the block, and family is an hour's drive away.
My life is moving at the pace it's intended to. And if that means chocolate milk and sweatpants, that's what it means. If that means Saturday mornings in bed, and afternoons running on the lakefront, answering to no one, that's what it means.
I've got a healthy relationship that I cherish and look forward to, and I'll hold it in the palm of my hand while it grows. The bond with my parents has strengthened after some troubled waters, but we're as close as ever. There isn't anything in my personal life that is lacking.
I see myself as a mom in the future. And I see myself as a wife, one day. The future is not today, or tomorrow, and one day everything will fall into its correct place.
For now I am enjoying this time. I'm enjoying being a young 26, developing a career, running because I can, spending days at the beach and nights on the couch. I'm holding tight to late-night phone calls and weekend visits.
I once had structure and a dinner table, plans and a Mrs. tacked before my name. It didn't work. Starting over is the only option, working from the ground up. The ground isn't such a bad place to be when you can see clearly.
The grass is always greener on the other side, they say. But on the ground is where the grass grows.