My cerebral radio DJ has been looping Simon and Garfunkel all day. I woke up with the relaxing melodies of “Feeling Groovy” flooding my mind with happy endorphins, and they have put me in a peaceful mood since 7 a.m. This was a nice change of pace since I had spent the previous 24 hours brooding.

After three wonderful days of absorbing ourselves in each other, my new guy, Steve, and I had to get back to reality. Unfortunately, instead of reveling in the bliss of a new romance, I found myself having a crise de confiance. Normally self-assured, I suddenly freaked out that this wonderfulness was too good to be true—that I couldn’t possibly live up to how he imagined me to be when he pursued me so romantically. Despite our mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual connection, I convinced myself that he had created an image of a woman that I couldn’t possibly embody. In tears, I poured my heart out into an email and sent it off. His response couldn’t have been more understanding.

He gently reminded me that there is no rush, no race as to what is unfolding before us. He reminded me to enjoy the moment and our relationship will unfold as it is meant to; he told me to just breathe and he will be there…all words that I needed to hear as I sometimes have a tendency to sprint instead of meander when I should.

I spent the first week of November in LA with my sister and my 2.5 year old niece and 5 week old nephew. I had forgotten how exhausting it is to have a newborn and a toddler, and how if you’re not careful, you find yourself wishing the days away so it will just get easier. And the thing is, it does get easier. Eventually you stop nursing and your energy level returns to a somewhat normal state. The kids learn to play together, so you are no longer their sole source of entertainment. The house gets quiet when they are out playing with their friends, and you can cook dinner in peace, calling them in when it’s ready. For those who don’t overschedule their kids, life does get easier, and it’s hard not to look forward to those days when you are waking every three hours to baby grunts and trying to be functional enough in the morning to get your toddler dressed for preschool.

I, of course, have the benefit of hindsight, as I am loving the age my kids are at now. Just the other day Paisley and Rhett were playing together. Suddenly they started disagreeing on what they were going to play next, but before I could intervene they settled the dispute themselves and hollered to me, “Mom, can we take a bath?” Bathtime here is the ultimate equalizer–all they have to do is put on their bathing suits and they can happily splash for half an hour. They knew when tensions were getting high and they stopped it before having to call in the guards. It was a proud Mommy moment.

I read a statistic today that there are 940 Saturdays between your child’s birth and the time they go to college. Since Jolie is just over halfway there, and my ex gets half of what’s remaining, I have approximately 230 Saturdays to spend with my oldest daughter. If ever there was a reminder to slow down!

Art and Paul have been reminding me all day that I do need to “make the morning last…” I feel so very fortunate to have three amazing kids and a new love who is a partner and a friend. Whether it be navigating a budding relationship with Steve or making sure every Saturday counts with the kiddos, we’ll be looking for fun and feeling groovy.

I love you all, some more than others.