"So what's left to do in this life?" I asked John as we retired for bed on a Friday night before 9 pm. My frankness was not only disheartening, it was a little morbid, too. It's been a few months since I turned 31 and I catch myself repeating the same phrase in my head every once in awhile. "I can't believe I'm already 31. I am the mother of TWO kids. I can't believe I'm already 31. I am the mother..." I remember lying awake at night in junior high giddy with the thoughts of my future, the anticipation of my high school prom (THAT was a let down!), those golden days of college academia, wild college parties, wilder college boys, moving out of my parent's house, "finding myself", finding my soul mate, falling in love, choosing a career, planning my wedding, the blissful years of newlywed life, buying our first house, getting pregnant for the first time, and then the second time (oops). And so I reflect on the "Back 30" as a mountain of accomplishment. Every year a new event, more exciting than the last. And now, suddenly, it's all happened. I've climbed to the top, I've checked everything off the "To Do List". Now I spend my days maintaining all those things I acquired in the previous 30 years. Like the wrinkles on my forehead and the teaching credential I have to renew. The mortgage payment and the gym membership I keep in hopes of restoring my twice pregnant figure. They say that depression often rides the curtails of a major accomplishment like finishing a marathon or completing a degree. You get such a high from the finality of it all, that soon afterward, you find yourself slipping into the doldrums. What goes up, must come down. Well, in a sense, I'm a little down. And no, this doesn't equate to any disappointment in my life or my marriage, and certainly not in my children. I am thrilled with where I am, more in love with my kids every day, and captivated by the intricacies of my ever changing relationship with my husband. I suppose I've just added it all up and determined the sum of all the parts and stand here scratching my head because I can't believe all the parts are already in the equation. Wait, I really got them ALL? There's not one more little peak over this valley? And no, I'm not hoping to get pregnant again, so I guess that answers that question. And now that I've looked back over the last 30 years, I slowly turn my head toward the future. A future that is no longer just about me, that is full of my children's futures, a life that is shared wholly with my better half. A group effort from here onward. What shall I lie awake at night and think about to conjure up that giddy excitement of my preteens? Menopause? Well, for now, I'll focus on everyone else because right now, it's their lives that bring excitement to mine. Their futures, his career goals, his dreams about new business, their first days of kindergarten, learning to read and draw, their first date. And here I am, reshaping my figure on the treadmill, packing their lunches, padding my retirement account, and waiting for my next big climb. I'm packing my newfound selflessness, strapping on my humbled confidence, tying on my open-minded appreciation, and bringing the whole family for this next leg of the journey.