People say that these are the best years, to enjoy them, they just fly by, that I will one day wish my kids will love me as much and want me as much as they do now... bla, bla, bla, as far as I am concerned. Every month that goes by, I get excited at being that much farther away from the baby years. I look at baby pictures of my toddler-aged Sebastian, and no, I don't get nostalgic AT ALL. Yes, he was cute, yes, he ate his whole meal without bribery, no, he didn't throw temper tantrums. But I still don't want to go back.
And I think that will be the same when both grow up even more.
I live my life, dazed and confused, with minimal awareness of myself and my surroundings. Even though to my colleagues I seem energetic and happy (it is more like high strung and insane), I am simply in survival mode. I don't want to kill myself, so I have to live. I can live with a smile on my face or with a perpetual frown.
Fake it till you feel it.
Happiness is the cause.
The wrinkles will be smile wrinkles, not frown wrinkles.
I can't believe I am still functioning.
I can't remember what I did 5 minutes ago, I can't concentrate for more than 5 minutes, I live 5 minutes at a time.
Yes, these are the best years, because eventually, I won't remember them at all.