I turned 46 last year. It sounds so middle aged.
I can't think of many things that sound more middle aged than 45. Let alone 46. Cardigan perhaps. Talking about house prices? Mortgage rates? Private schools?
I think I've talked about all of those things in the last year. Except maybe cardigans.
Sarah and I kept a daily diary for the first 2 years of Charlie's life. I haven't looked at it recently but I suspect it is mostly filled with stories of how little sleep we had had. Sleep, or more accurately the lack of it, dominated our lives.
Those times have passed and we've moved on a little. We've had time to take a step back and give some thought to our lives, how we want to live and how we want Chops to grow up. And the results are a little bit of daunting, scary, exciting and fun all rolled up together.
We've resigned from our serious adult jobs in Melbourne, bought a house in Hobart and plan to spend at least the next 12 months just hanging out, travelling and doing not much of anything really. It will be interesting to see how it goes.
And, I've started writing to remember. Sounds a bit strange when you say it out loud. My memory is terrible at best and entirely absent at worst. I have loads of photos from my trips over the years but even when I can remember where and when they're from, they don't capture the feelings or the small observations that I find interesting to reflect on.
So maybe in a few years when I really am old, I'll have something to look back on and hopefully remember some of the detail.
JT
