It blows my mind that I graduated from high school ten years ago. (Some people are like… she is so young… others are like… she is so old!) But, seriously… ten years? In school, it seemed like the days and years lasted for-e-ver. I guess my twenties have just been… well… busy. Work, college, more work, more college… dating… marriage, and… A KID! (Oh, and a dog… a fish… and a couple of reptiles.)

So, my high school reunion rolls around and I end up on the committee because it was super important to me that our reunion included some sort of family element. I really wanted Munchie to play with the spawn of my fellow graduates… the kids of the kids I grew up with. I wanted him to feed bubbles (okay… this wasn’t my original hope… but it happened) to kids he had only seen on Facebook.

I wanted to meet the kids who had been my inspiration via Facebook during my pregnancy… the adorable faces that kept me going when I was feeling like a nauseous cow on bed rest. I wanted to hold the babies I had prayed for and cheered on while they grew stronger in the NICU… and I did.

Our kids played together, our spouses made awkward small talk… and my fellow graduates and I had a chance to mingle. A few people came from out of town, but most who were in attendance still live close. We were able to make plans for future play dates, talk about meeting up at the parks of our youth… and just support each other in our new family roles.

Don’t worry… people without kids had fun, too… and we all met up for an adult event later. I enjoyed seeing everyone, getting a chance to reconnect, and see how we have transformed into the generation who will spawn a future generation. (A not so friendly hangover reminded me that I’m not in college anymore.)

Topping our level of awesomeness is going to be tough… but when awesome people breed… the result can only be super awesome… right? Cheers to future generations! We have big plans for you… please, don’t let us down. Good luck being more awesome than we are. (One day Munchie is going to read this and think, “OMG… my mom is so lame!”)