Best years of our life?

It seems like I keep hearing that phrase from random people – people at the grocery store, moms at school, teachers, the book I just finished reading (Queen Bee Moms and Kingpin Dads) – everywhere. At first I have to think…are you CRAZY? I’m so sleep deprived I put Windex on the kids’ clothes instead of Shout. My checkbook hasn’t been balanced in forever; I’m relying on the bank’s statements (gasp, I know). I haven’t been shopping for a new shirt/shoes/pants/younameit in months. Everytime I think about it, I find something way cuter for the kids, especially the girls. I’ve done more loads of laundry than I care to think about in the past three weeks. The vomiting has got to stop. Scott and I haven’t had a weekend alone in over a year. At first glance, or even second for that matter, that doesn’t sound glamorous and the “best” of anything, now does it?

And then I see this…

And God reminds me that life comes in chapters. You can’t just sit down and read the whole book in one sitting. It doesn’t work that way. As a couple, I feel like our life has three parts, before children, giving life to children and “thank God they can do things by themselves” children. Life with kids is messy, and tiring. But, it’s also soul-searching, in a good way. I’m trying hard to let some of the little things go. Hey, don’t knock it. For an OCD, Type A, Reformed Queen Bee Mom like myself – it’s hard.

After some reflection, I do agree with all those people mentioned above. These are the best years of our life. We still have energy, I can still outrun my children, things may not look as great as they did in the mirror at 20, but that’s ok. And, hey, my kids still think I’m cool.