How did I get here . . .

Today I was cleaning my kitchen and playing an old favorite, "The Police" on my handy under-the-counter CD player as I worked. Just as, "Message in a Bottle," comes on I look down and my 18-month-old is rocking out. Then we're holding hands as he dances on my feet. We're giggling and dancing and then the thought pops in my head, "how did I end up in this kitchen dancing with this gem of a little boy?" I mean I didn't see anything like this when I was making my life plans 10 years ago or so. The plans . . .maybe teach, maybe be a missionary, maybe get married if I really wanted to . . . And now here I am a mommy of two boys, playing "my" music in the kitchen when I think they're napping. This is my reality . . . my boys, my husband, the responsibilities of my home . . . But listening to old music and then having my little one toddle into the scene just made me pause and think, "how did I get from there to here?"