I raised my kids. I read books. I got the magazines. I PTA’d and volunteered. I baked and silent auctioned. I complained and laughed and cried. I did band aids, dislocated elbows, and wisdom teeth removal. There were panic attacks, leave of absences and psychologists. I argued and worried and felt defeated.
I got the exchange student. I did the vacations. I sewed, painted, even tried to garden. I myspaced/Facebook/instagram posted the moments. I pinterested the hell out of that. I handed over keys. I prepped for interviews and help with applications. I paid, paid, paid for things. Soccer? Softball? music? dance? SAT prep?
The days were long but the years flew by.
And now what?
The Next 38 
You know, it’s funny. There’s a part of me the envies you – your time is yours. Your drive is your own. You’re doing everything for you.
But when I take a step back, I realize . . . that would scare the hell out of me.
I have no advice other than to be selfish. Think of what makes you you: what makes you tick, what do you enjoy, what do you want to do (not because it’s what needs to be done or what you feel you should want). Travel, buy real estate, write, sew, knit, open a bakery or a coffee house or a pet store that only sells chinchillas.
It’s not too scary, it’s kind of liberating 😀