Younger me had a clear idea of what I should expected from adulthood. Firstly I’d find myself a fulfilling career doing something I loved, and, being incredibly insecure, which I was loved for doing. It would involve travelling, so I’d see the world and probably learn a couple of languages along the way.

Well versed in romantic comedies I knew that at some point a attractive, funny man would date me. Then he would, obviously, fall head over, can’t sleep or eat, heels with me. There would be a scene in which he proposed to me in an exciting,, amusing and totally unique way, and we’d go ahead and get hitched.

Eventually we’d decide to have some babies. I’d fall pregnant immediately, and produce beautiful children. Then, well errr, then?

So, what actually happened was thus. It turned out that I wasn’t all that good at my chosen profession, crippling self consciousness not being an ideal quality for a performer. I did travel a little. However my foray into learning another language never proceeded past clutching a Spanish phrase book and getting giggled at by Spanish circus artists who spoke English anyway. Luckily for me the part about the man who falls head over heels came true. The proposal however, I’d best not say much more than that real life isn’t a romantic comedy.

The babies came eventually, it wasn’t straightforward but they certainly are beautiful. So, what do we plan for next? It’s occurred to me recently that I’d never imagined much past the babies being born. I never dreamed about the perfect middle age!

So what do we plan for next?