A few weeks ago, my husband and I got away for a weekend trip to Kansas City. The only item on our agenda was a 10:30 pm showing of a live performance of one of my favorite podcasts on Saturday night. We left the kids at home with their favorite sitter and hopped in the minivan and made the 3-hour trek.
And it was everything we needed it to be. We slept in. We dined with a couple of Foodies we know in KC. We shopped. We even spent an hour at a spa, and while I’m sure my masseuse was trying to murder me, it was amazing. I will admit that I’m old now, and starting a party at 10:30 on a Saturday night isn’t what it used to be, as I was nodding off on my husband’s shoulder by midnight.
But it was great. The weekend was great. On Sunday we hopped in the car, drove back to our regularly scheduled programming, to the life we built together. A life filled with boys and sports schedules and chaos.
We’re living in what I call The Afternoon Years. The middle years. The years after the beginning and before the end.
We survived The Morning Years, filled with dating and college and marriage and babies and starting careers and changing careers and growing up littles.
Now we have a better idea who we are and where we’re going. We can see the fruits of our parenting labor as these littles are growing into some really fun middles. We can go on dates without hiring a babysitter. We’re settling into the comfort of loving and being loved, unconditionally. This place is comfortable. Life still has curve balls to throw, but because we’re in The Afternoon Years it won’t shake us like it did when we were in The Morning Years.
The Evening Years are around the corner. Filled with sunsets and goodbyes. But for now I’ll cherish these afternoon years as my people grow into their own seasons of mornings and afternoons. I’ll hold the hand of this man who has loved me so unconditionally throughout our years. I’ll be content in the afternoon.