Really it wasn't. This wasn't how I imagined my life, back when I daydreamed my way through high school. Or while I did battle with fruit flies at Uni.
I was going to be glamorous and successful (hmm, define successful?) with a gorgeous house and perfect children. (Actually, I don't remember ever daydreaming about children...I knew I wanted some, they just didn't feature in my daydreams.)
There would be international travel and cocktail parties, dinner parties with sparkling conversation and mini-breaks in country hotels.
I would wear high heels every day, teamed with effortlessly stylish outfits. I would stop traffic and men would spontaneously buy me flowers.
I would fall in love, be swept off my feet by a knight in shining armour and whisked off to his country pile/castle in the clouds.
We'd visit the theatre, frequent the opera and the ballet, dine in the finest restaurants and have a fully stocked wine wrack.
We'd stroll along the river on a Sunday afternoon before finding some fabulous little gastropub.
I wouldn't dream of going for a bra fitting without shaving my armpits. Or walk around with a mono-brow. There would be no chipped nail polish or dirty laundry strewn across the bedroom floor.
The house (4 bedrooms at least) would be immaculate, with a smattering of funky little design pieces from up and coming artists.
We would submerse ourselves in culture every weekend and be the toast of the town. We would be perfect hosts and friends would adore their visits with us.
But that's not real life really is it?
I read earlier today that apparently, 35 is the ideal age to be. You're almost at the peak of your earning potential (wtf?) and have achieved most of the major milestones (married, yes; children, yes; mortgage, yes).
So why do the husband and I feel so...unfulfilled? We adore our children, they really are the light of our lives. But...yet again, we're questioning 'is this it?' Even with our Great Escape Plan, we're floundering. Again. The Great Escape is still at least a year away and although we need to start putting some plans in motion soon (like the great decluttering project), we're twiddling our thumbs a bit. Stuck in limbo.
Even when I get the opportunity to go to the theatre or out for dinner, a part of me groans at the effort. I'd rather have husband cook me a bowl of pasta then curl up on the sofa to watch a film together. We're so tired from chasing our tails trying to juggle family life and work that even the thought of being sociable is just too exhausting.
I guess that's just reality for you. Boring but true.
Does anyone really live the dream?