I wish this picture were me. But it is! But it isn’t. I am not four years old and squishing in the mud at preschool, glopping clunky Tonka trucks on their way to heaven knows what business. I am 44 years old, and I am receiving texted photos of my baby at preschool while tippity tapping away at my office keyboard, sipping Sweet Leaf mint & honey green tea, and trying to ignore email messages. I am wearing black pumps, not mud socks, but at the same time, this is me. On some level I am four years old and I just want to get in the mud pit and get my hands dirty.