The Next Chapter
So my hubby is soon to graduate. That’s right, after four years of slaving away, he will finally be a teacher, hugely employable (we hope) in each and every corner of the world.
Two words: THANK GOD.
He started uni literally two weeks before Ella was born you see, and I’m just so thrilled to think that the screams I let out during labour will finally be surpassed in volume by the screams I’ll be letting out at graduation. Woo-bloody-hoo!
Not that we haven’t enjoyed the novelty of raising two kids on a student income. Not that it’s not empowering to realise that if you were stranded on an island, you would be okay so long as you had potatoes.Not that it isn’t romantic to be given library books for Valentine’s Day (hey, that was actually super practical, don’t knock it til you’ve tried it).
But…four years later: we’re kinda over it.
So here we are, bracing ourselves – in a gleeful way – for the next chapter of our lives. Our kids are getting more independent (and more fun to be with!) every day, so combining that with finally living above the poverty line is so appealing that I may just burst into song. In fact, I think I shall. Excuse me.