At the ripe old age of thirty-three, I married my hometown sweetie. He was in sixth grade when I graduated, and NO, he was not my sweetie or anything else until many years later. We are a perfect match and meant-to-be soulmates.
My sweetie and I live in upstate New York, and I mean UP state, as in above Albany.
At thirty-six I had my first son. At forty-three we adopted our first daughter from Russia who was six years. At forty-six we returned to Russia and adopted our second son and daughter, biological siblings aged almost nine years and six years. Our four children are within a four year span from youngest to oldest, and each could chronologically be my grandchild. Which at the rate they’re going, will be the only way I can ever claim any grandchildren! Although young adults and independent, they keep me young or add more gray hairs, depending on which child and which day.