This is me, at 2 or 3: perfectly happy, perfectly upside-down. Blissfully not knowing that anything is wrong in the world.
This is me, at 8 or 9: loving Little House on the Prairie; learning to play tennis; afraid I will have to go to listening and math centers for the rest of my life. Not knowing that my kids will someday go to the same school.
This is me, in middle school: playing in the band; running cross country horribly; worried about fitting in; hanging out at high school football games. Not knowing that one of the football players would become my husband.
This is me, at 18: graduating from high school; heading to St Mary of the Woods; majoring in education. Not knowing I would hate it.
This is me, at 20: getting married; pregnant; going to IUPUI; feeling a bit lost. Not knowing that we’d be welcoming many more babies; that at 30, I’d be pregnant and going to IUPUI.
This is me, at 25: having the kids Baptized; expecting Luke; pulling weeds; dancing with babies in the kitchen. Not knowing that I’d be joining groups, driving carpools, helping with school projects, losing my battle with the laundry.
This is me, at 27: staying home with the kids and loving it; driving kids to and from practice and dance and watching them thrive; learning at the dinner table about the people they are becoming. Not knowing I’d be eulogizing my dad, and RG would be out of work.
This is me, at 30: still in love with that football player; still losing that battle with the laundry; still learning about my kids; still missing my dad; still trying to take a decent picture; still dancing with babies and taking deep sighs over the kitchen sink; still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up; still dreaming.
Not knowing what I’m not knowing.
And looking forward to finding out.