On a peaceful cup of tea, and always wishing for what isn't

I think of a time when I could wake up on my own, brew a cup of tea, sit at my window and enjoy the silence. The still. When I could go on a bike ride, and spend my day doing things for me, things that I want to do. I long for the old days when all I concerned myself with was who to hang out with, what party to go to. Days that weren't riddled with diapers and naps and nursing and tantrums. I imagine that someday many years from now when my children are grown and gone I will be able to have days like this again. And then I wonder, will I sit there alone with my cup of tea, and be happy?

I think I will probably spend those days wishing that those little smiling faces were still waking me early in the morning, crying for me when they are hurt, struggling to get away from me as I change their diapers, and making me laugh with all of the silly things they do. I realize that after years of yearning for that time to myself again, it is very likely that I will wake up in the morning, brew my cup of tea, and call my daughter on the phone to tell her I wish she was there. We always long for what isn't, and what will be, or what used to be. I wish it were easier to just cherish the now of things.