When people think of the ?golden years,? they usually think of retirement?perhaps a quaint little cottage up north or a condo in Florida, spending some easy years enjoying life after work is done but before old age sets in.
But there is another interlude between one hard thing and another, between the slog of toddlers and the horror of teens, and I?m in it now: the golden years of parenting. It?s almost hard to believe, and I sometimes hesitate to admit it for fear of angering the gods, jinxing it and calling calamity down upon us by hubris alone.
My life as a single parent of two children IS EASY RIGHT NOW. There it is, I said it: easy. After years of absolute hard work and literal blood, sweat and tears (and puke?oh, why do both my children and my dog get carsick"), life is pretty damn good. I sometimes feel like we?ve all become so used to being exhausted and broke, surrounded by constant need and demand, sticky fingers and vomit-encrusted seat belts, that we?ve failed to notice the calm. Other times, I doubt myself and think, Maybe I?m the only one" But no, as I enter firmly into my second decade of parenting, I see it among friends as well: the eye of the storm.

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