Wednesday, March 23, 2011

A new Me. (Or an old Me, revisited)

I'm not one for maudlin and weary posts about what I did or did not accomplish in the previous year.  I usually just list what I did and move on to the next circuit around the sun.
As I celebrated my 38th birthday at the beginning of the year, I found myself frankly shaken by the number.  Thirty eight? WTF?  When did this happen?  I feel like a 20 year old.  This is wrong.  Someone made a mistake.
But  there it is.  If you're born in 1973, it stands to reason that in 2011, you would be seeing forty not too far down the road.  My fellow Flock members and anyone else reading this blog are free to roll your eyes, and call me a baby and tell me to put on my big girl panties.
But.
You were here once, weren't you?  Approaching forty and wondering how it could have happened?  Feeling a bit like time was running out to do something crazy, maybe?
That's how I feel.  Now, I certainly don't want to "revisit my high school days" or even think about them very much.  I think I would rather have too few hormones, like now, instead of having too many like back then.  Remember what that was like??




My thirties have been really good.  I got two great kids out of it.  I discovered birding and RAPTOR.  I have made the closest friends I have had since high school.  Closer, even.  (We know how fickle teenagers are)
So no whining there.
Even though forty is lurking over the next rise in the road, am I sad?  Bitter?
As I reflect, my gut instinct is to say NO.  For the reasons I stated above, and for so much more.

So I'm 38.  Big deal.  It's how you feel, right?  And since I border on grossly immature, I'm ahead of the curve.  I'm already cantankerous, so I don't have to learn as I go.
Yeah, my knees aren't as quiet as they once were.  My ability to stay up all night, while not completely gone, is a bit diminished.  I fell asleep sitting up the other day, a la Grandma.  My boobs don't look anyone in the eye anymore.
I find myself saying things like, "Just because your best friend has a phone doesn't mean YOU get one" and "Because I'm your mother!" and "Geoff, pass me the Geritol".

(Geoff, to give the man some street cred, still calls me his trophy wife.  He's a big fat liar, but it's the thought that counts.)




I'm not letting all this stop me, though.  In fact, I'm better than I've ever been.  I'm still fun enough to be enjoyable, but I have all this responsibleness that will keep me out of jail, most of the time.  I still make friends easily, but the friends I am choosing now are stellar, steadfast and true.
So this was less of a bitch-fest and more of a thinking out loud post.  Thanks for reading through it.

Next post:  Preparing for this year's New River Bird and Nature Festival, which fits neatly behind this post, because the Flock makes me feel young and free and giggly and sloshy.  Paco!  More vino, por favor!!

8 comments:

Beth said...

I love that I am the first to comment on your whinefest. The 30's are good, but the 40's kick ass. You are going to love every minute of growing into your glory. You are not only a trophy wife, but a trophy friend. Love ya.

Vicki said...

Forties were great for me! Lots of the big things in life fell into place during that decade and I felt a sense of relief as the children took shape, professionally I was strong and relationships were, as you say, solid and steadfast. Those relationships help you move into the somewhat more challenging 50s. But it wasn't until last year that if felt as though I couldn't push the limits of the prime of life anymore and that was at 60. Laughing now- I just paused as I typed that and thought, "HOW old am I? Sixty??? WTF?" Anyway, with many years on you girl, I can tell you that you're just a babe and just a baby in the relative scheme of things, the best is yet to come and stop whining.

I'll start working on my NR post and have it up by this weekend, promise.

birdermurdermomma said...

Forties were good for me too, but fifties are awesome! I finally feel like it's my turn - to pursue what I want, be who I want, and not worry about what anyone else thinks. My kids are out of the nest, I have time with my husband, and I can eat frozen custard anytime of day if I want to without having to make sure everyone else gets some first! I had my first novel published when I hit 53, and (3 novels later) life just keeps getting better. I agree with Vicki - the best is yet to come for you!

KGMom said...

Every year, every decade--it's all good because it's LIFE.
There's only one birthday I minded--35. I figured the 3 score year and 10 meant that 70 was the end, so 35 was half-way.
Now at 66, I don't think 70 has to be the end. SO 35, ppffffttt--that was just a small bump on the road.

Dave Dorsey said...

I'm about to have the 6th Anniversary of my 29th birthday. Anyways, you only get better Toots!

denapple said...

Wait till you hit the 60's and get to retire! Retirement is sooo much more fun than going to work every day. And I'm going to be a grandma in October!

dAwN said...

Enjoy your thirties...its all downhill from there...hee hee..
Seriously~I love being in my fifties..just don't like that things are starting to go south.
Need to stand on my head :)

dguzman said...

I was going to tell you to put on those panties (wow), but I read everyone else's comments and it kinda cooled my "I'm old, and you're just a pre-teen!" bile. Yeah, it's not so bad. 38 was a good year, and I really have become so much more comfortable and secure about who I am.

That security does have its drawbacks, however. I find that the older I get, the less I care about stuff like work, society's expectations, rules, etc. I find myself saying, "Oh, who gives a fuck? Like it really matters!" about soooo many things, yet you'd be surprised how much my BOSS thinks it really matters! I think I'm just ready for retirement from the rat-race.