Here she is – my 40th. Uneventful and quiet, mostly because I’m up trying to do as much as I can in the early hours of this day, so I don’t have to do it when I wake up again – in a few short hours. My new thing, it would seem, is to get up around 4. It used to be 3am, and then I’d go back to sleep, but now – at 4, or even 5, it’s *just* close enough to the hours that are real for me that the list of things starts in my head – that I have to do today, that I was supposed to do yesterday. Sometimes big things, like – get back into running and formulate a plan, and sometimes little things, like – buy a hairdryer, because mine broke a week ago and I just cannot seem to figure out a time to get a new one.
Anyway, here, in the first hour of 40, I thought – since I put the list out there, I owed an update. I think you guys will be proud of me?
I haven’t worn a bikini, but I ordered it, it should arrive tomorrow, and since it didn’t get here in time for my 40th I figured I’d up the ante on this item – especially since it’s the first – and just put heels on and wear it around my neighborhood, maybe while I walk someone else’s dog. (RIGHT?) I haven’t gone skinny-dipping either, but to be fair, I’ve done that like 100 times, so I don’t feel so bad putting that off until July. I haven’t sang karaoke, but I’ve blasted Call Me Maybe while driving around a troupe of 6th grade lacrosse girls. I haven’t had sex (technically) but I’ve thought a lot about it, and I think that counts? I’ve run 20 miles. I said yes to everything for a week, but I didn’t tell anyone, so that turned out to be relatively un-exciting. I watched the sunrise. I told a story that was worth telling that I can’t tell here, which means it was GOOD. I told people I loved them – probably too much. And of course, I ran across a highway celebrating my birthday in the most dressed-down way I could. The most OPEN, if you will. Free?
What happened with all of this was the most wonderful thing ever – I spent time with people I might have otherwise been too soaked up in my day to day craziness to enjoy. It introduced this bolt of excitement I hadn’t had in a little while – along with introducing new people to spend time with – people I adore in general, but never spent time with just the two of us. I had so. much. fun.
For the past few weeks, people around me have been wishing me ‘luck’ with the transition to 40, or wishing me a happy 30th, or 29th – and man alive I am just happy to be the age I am. No matter what age I say I am, my face, body and spirit are the same. What’s the point in hiding your age unless you want to hide yourself? I am maybe the happiest I’ve ever been – and my body is not the most perfect, and I am not by any traditional definition well-off, and I do not know how to hang blinds, and my house is *cleanish*, and it’s not even my house, and I am getting through parenting by the skin of my teeth, but I am doing it all being true to myself, 95% of the time. (Like, it doesn’t feel true to myself when my voice rises 10 octaves when I get pulled over, or in front of a boy I think is cute, but?). I only assume that with another 40 years, that 95% will kick right into 100, just as I’m crossing the grave.
In the meantime, I remain grateful and blessed and happy and peaceful – and all of the other words that have become overused hashtags but also remain true.
Does anyone else love a song with a happy beat and clapping?
Happy 40th to me.