Of course, nothing is as it was supposed to be, which is both good and bad.
I had always imagined my life would be vastly different from the one I now lead. I planned on marrying at 28, waiting 5 years to have my first child, then waiting another 2 to have my second and and final child.
I planned on having a career first before marrying.
That's it. That was my plan.
Specific, but missing a lot of details.
The details came later, obviously, but not how I thought they'd fall into my overall plan.
I was married at 22, not 28.
I worked a job for 7 years, but never planned on making it my career.
I have two children, so far; I'd like another one. The first two are 3 years apart, not 2.
Now, I'm a SAHM, which I swore I'd NEVER be, and I'm loving it.
I also thought I'd still be thin, and stylish, and well-traveled.
I thought my boobs would always be their cute, perky, B-cup selves.
That was a great fantasy!
I'm not thin anymore. I'm not fat, but I look like I've had two kids. I'm definitely not stylish; I'm comfortable.
And those cute, perky B-cups? Gone forever.
Instead I have voluptuous, saggy, larger-than-a-B-cup boobs. They are working boobs; definitely not for show anymore.
Especially not Sleeping Beauty, or Prince Charming, for that matter.
I've barely traveled anywhere. I've never even seen the Midwestern states, let alone the rest of the world.
"Someday," I keep telling myself. "Someday."
Of course, being 29 1/2 isn't all bad, but that's a subject for another post.
For now, I'm just going to wallow in the knowledge that my life isn't what I thought it would be.
Sometimes it's good to wallow; it makes us appreciate what really IS and not what was supposed to be...