I Can See Forty

Just had another birthday. It’s still one starting with a three (while not yet ending on a nine). But to be honest, I can’t wait for forty to arrive, pink ribbon and all. I am so ready to kick back—and that, my friends, is what I’ll do.

If we look at the decades of life we probably all had some sort of ok first decade – most likely we were actually unaware that it was only the beginning of things to come. We all went swimming, had too much ice cream, mediocre friends and, if lucky, one really good one (who moved away).

Then came the teens which I don’t think I have to dwell on much, right? What was that all about anyway? Emotional drowning thwarted only by the consumption of even more ice cream, an abundance of abysmal friends, bad clothes (nice try), bad complexion, bad music, and even worse first sex (mine was actually ok, though the guy, Mick P. ended up being gay) – all of this blamed on the broad subject of ‘coming of age’ which generally means only one thing: Really screwed up hormones.

Anyway, enter the twenties – decade of brazen strides and badly bruised egos. I don’t have much good to say about this one. I met Matt and had a great time traveling for some of those years but all together it was a rather stressful period in my life culminating in the birth of our first child.

And here we are, the thirties. I never thought that life was so much work!!! But then, when you look at life from a secure perch on grandpa’s apple tree, it doesn’t look that bad. Just lots of adults getting in and out of cars, checking the time, and raising their eyebrows.

Now I have become one of them: I write lists and I check items off, I have rushed phone conversations, I multi-task (poorly), and I chase my kids around 24/7. In between I check in with people I care about, update my blog, and wonder whether we should get a dog (I know, of course, what the answer to that one is: NO!).

I have become what I most dreaded all my life: a bore!

Anyway, it’s all about to get so much better soon. I will be fun, energetic, free (if not smashingly beautiful and brilliant), I will continue writing (just more and better stuff), my kids will take over homeschooling and (hopefully) house keeping, and Matt will beg me to go tango with him at night (which I will politely accept). And life will be just perfect.

We still won’t get a dog, however.