Twenty-nine.  If you’ve been here any time at all, you know all about twenty-nine.  The entire year has revolved around the late gestation of, birth of, and nurturing of my two darling girls.  (Which is, of course, exactly as it should be.  Maternal obsession with one’s infants is why the human race continues to exist.)

This year, I’ve never worried more in my life, but have never been more content.  I’ve never doubted myself so much, but have never been so proud of what I’ve accomplished.  I’ve never loved anyone more, full stop.

Mothering has been everything I thought it would be, and a hundred things I didn’t see coming, both good and bad.   The joy of bringing these two little people into the world, and guiding and feeding and clothing and most of all loving them – it’s absolutely incredible.  An enormous, mind-boggling responsibility, but I’m pretty sure I have the Peace Corps beat – this is the toughest job I’ll ever love.

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