I’m sitting here in my flannelette shirt and my ugg boots, drinking my cup of tea and I’m so fucking content it isn’t even funny.
This is what I want. My house is tidy, it feels like an accomplishment.
My kids are coming home to freshly baked scones.
I’ve actually put dinner on the table every day this week. No breakfasts for dinners.
And it all feels good.
I’m finding myself wanting another baby, like a real want.
Funnily, whenever I’ve mentioned it to anyone I hear “No….No more babies!”
I don’t understand?
All I want is my chickens and my gardens and (mostly) happy children. Because no one can be happy all the time.
I want to make a difference in this world and I feel I am with the people I’m working with at the moment.
They’re being role models to their children and parents and friends and families.
They’re setting their own goals now.
Mine may have changed. That’s okay, isn’t it?