Today I'm all about the positives. I'm here to tell my fellow forty-something comrades that there are some unexpected joys to be found in this season of life.

Heating costs: Today I received my first ever under-$1000 winter electricity bill. Ever. The reason is that my malfunctioning hypothalamus has turned me into a heat source. One so powerful that I'm apparently capable of heating a double-brick shack in East Orange all on my own. Not once have we turned the heater on at night, and my husband simply cuddles me instead of using his electric blanket these days. Hot flushes: saving Australian households, one bill at a time.

The kids: I honestly thought the best stage of parenting began when you no longer had to wipe your three-year-old's bum, but it doesn't. That joy is nothing compared with asking your teenager to get bread and milk while you have a lie-in. The best part is that unlike everything else you ask your teenager to do, e.g. feed the dog, they do this happily. Gleefully even. They think they're so cool slapping P plates on and you get another 18 minutes in bed. If they're in a good mood, they'll even bring you home coffee. If they're in a great mood, they'll pay for it.

The kids part two: They need you less. This will be hard and you will cry while holding their blankie, but give it time. Miss 17's new mantra is, "I have one hundred and thirty-eight whole dollars in the bank, and I don't need you or anybody." Let them have it. They will figure out the pain of their Spotify Premium subscription being due the same day they need petrol, and they'll attempt to hit you up for emergency boba cash. Say yes, but go with them and enjoy the moment.

The kids part three: Miss 12 is very busy practising for her end-of-year dance concert. In previous years I've been too unwell to go, too tired to go, or so busy with my own end-of-year chaos that I've happily sent the grandparents in my place. This year? It's the last one, and I cannot wait to see her strut her stuff. Today she's catching the bus home with a friend, and I won't see her until late, but this brings me nothing but joy. She's happy, she's confident, and she's building a life that doesn't revolve around me anymore. That's exactly the way it's supposed to be.

Dining: I used to live to throw a dinner party. My kids would be shocked to learn that I own entire dinner and cutlery sets with matching tablecloths, napkins and napkin rings. Proper ramekins for the soufflés I'd bake. Everyday salad servers and our nice salad servers. These days we eat off mismatched plates, serve salad for our weekly tacos with broken tongs from Woollies, and the last time we had friends over for dinner, we ate takeaway Thai from cereal bowls. Nobody cared, and it was a great night.

Plans: I know many of my contemporaries in Orange love the winery scene, and good on them. We have some beautiful vineyards. However, I don't drink, and as I age I want far less baked brie and truffles around a fire pit when I can eat a toastie on the couch with my husband. We wear trackies, sit under our beautiful weighted doona and watch a terrible movie adaptation of a book I once loved. These days going out is the last thing I want to do after a week of work, and I even breathed a sigh of relief when my best friend cancelled coffee this morning.

Time: It's not that I've magically started enjoying every moment or living life to its fullest. In fact, it's kind of the opposite. But I do realise how precious my time is. I'll happily read an entire book on a Saturday, have weekly coffee with friends at home, and I genuinely love weeding after a good rainfall. I wrote recently about rediscovering scrapbooking, and I'd forgotten how much joy craft brings me. It's not even about creating beautiful art; it's about remembering who I was before work, marriage and motherhood took over. It's about spending my time well.