I just read a post that, at another time, would have set my teeth on edge. But at this point, I am too content, too secure that in fact my life DOES cheerfully revolve around my children and their needs, that always I am mindful of what they will need to grow them into healthy adults independent of me and their father.
I am not sure what has resulted in this confidence -- perhaps it is the way my daughter is growing and glowing, her infectious exuberance. Perhaps it is that I do not think there exists on earth a more socially conscious or compassionate six year old than Little Bun. Perhaps it is how incredibly average their sibling rivalry is, how uneventful our evenings are, how delightful our mornings (even when I awake to a high straining version of "Chubby Checker" -- again with the Chubby Checker! but she identifies songs by artists and loves Chubby Checker like she loves KC and the Sunshine Band -- at six o'clock in the morning).
Perhaps it is simply time.