It’s good having the kids back in school. We all settle into a routine, and things are so much easier than they were this time last year. So much easier than they were even last spring. We’re all just calmer, more settled, and I mean that in the best sort of way. The kids have grudgingly accepted the new two-household thing, and even if Jessica sometimes frets at going back and forth, there are no more heartbreaking scenes where she cries in my arms.

I’m happier, too, and grateful for all my blessings. Like my kids. My amazing friends. The charming little shingle house we live in.

When I think back to last fall, it’s just a blur. The only thing I know for sure is that I’m not going to struggle through the holidays the way I did last year. In fact, I won’t actually have the kids for Christmas this year, but even then, it’s not going to be the big drama it was last December. I’m scaling everything back, including my expectations.

Maybe the kids and I need to come up with some new traditions, less stressful traditions, ones that we will all enjoy.

Driving William home from football practice Tuesday night, I ask him what he likes best about Christmas.

“Being with family,” he says, wearily clutching his battered football helmet.

I smile as I glance in the rearview mirror. I can always count on him for the warm fuzzies. “What about you, Jess?” I ask.

She looks out the window for a long minute before sighing. “The presents.”

I knew that was coming. My smile deepens. Thank God some things never change.

It’s two weeks later and the end of September. We’re still getting these magnificient sunsets where the sky is rich with layers of red and gold. Sunday night I sit with the kids on the couch, watching yet another episode of SpongeBob and Teen Titans.

Tonight we got lazy (I got lazy) and ordered pizza for dinner. As the sky darkens, deepens, William takes another piece of pizza and Jessica begs for a Popsicle. I say yes to everything, still savoring my indulgent mood. All day I’ve been thinking about life, my life, the past few years, and all the stuff I still want to do.

As I wipe up a drip from Jessica’s purple Popsicle, I’m thinking how glad I am that I went to Hawaii in January. Meeting Kai changed me. Made me realize that growing up doesn’t have to mean growing old.

I want to surf again. Snorkle. Play on the beach. I want to date younger men, too. There’s no reason I have to date guys my age. No reason I have to go for balding, heavyset, and Viagra. If a younger man finds me attractive, why can’t that be okay?

Why do women have to follow the rules?