I went spelunking.

Today, I read that post and didn’t remember those dreams. I do remember that trip into the caves, though, and it was just as magical as I described it.

That magic and wonder – I wish I could have a little more of it in my life right now. I don’t want to sound miserable and ungrateful, because I’m really not. I do love parenting and I believe that I’m on the path I am meant to travel, but right now my days are so much more about preventing Claire from chewing on the toilet brush and reading entire Magic Tree House books from cover to cover for Beatrice than they are about exploring my own uncharted territories. Perhaps this is inevitable: this is adulthood. If I wasn’t at home with the girls I would be slogging through the daily grind at a job. Or this is just life with small children, and the space and time for my own adventures will open up again in a few years. Or perhaps everything in life has a season, and the season for carefree adventures has passed. Now I really do care, and I have to make sure everyone is wearing their mittens and wellies and isn’t eating any small, inedible objects, such as hair elastics, old dirty stickers or cat food.

In any case, I think I might go back and read some of my archives, just for the fun of it. Pretty soon there will be ten years of content there. TEN! That makes me some kind of ancient, largely undiscovered cave-dwelling blogger, I think. I’d like to go speluking again.

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self-analysis by michelle