It's the week after Christmas. NYE. The chaos has (mostly) died down, and we're all recuperating, right? This year, Christmas Day was quiet for us; gifts don't take long when there are only two of you. I made cinnamon buns, and then butternut squash soup. We missed (and then watched) the Queen's Christmas message, and a fascinating episode of The Nature of Things about Stonehenge and its neolithic history. And then after dinner, I cried. Despite the near perfection of the day, especially its lack of busy-ness, I felt overwhelmed by life, by the reality of family expectations, by life change, and by my inability to pinpoint exactly what I "want" in life - especially in light of my nearly-complete Master's degree. "It just doesn't end," I cried, "I feel like it's all too much. Is this what the next 30 years will be like??" The next day I sat chatting with two quite delightful moms of young kids. Both readily admitt...