I realized a couple of days ago that it was 91 days until I turned 40. Holy.shit. I was JUST 29!!!
It’s now down to Day 82 and gotta say, I am getting a bit more used to the idea. 40. Why, it just sounds “sturdy.” I don’t really know what that means, but 29 or 39 seems like such an indecisive number.
My general age freak out happened when I turned 29. I couldn’t tell you why, but it skitzed me out completely. I wasn’t going to be “in my twenties” anymore and couldn’t use the excuse of age for my screw-ups…your 30’s well, you had to Grow Up…
I use the term Grow Up loosely. I mean at 39, I am still TP-ing my best friends house (sorry Tanner) and watching cartoons (Bring back Dexter! you idiot!!!)….
I get that age is a state of mind. Most days. I can still do a cartwheel. I still can’t throw a softball. And if necessary, I could probably still ride my bike. But chubby and two wheels is just asking for trouble.
I remember being 10 and thinking I was getting “too old” to play with my Barbies any longer. I was so sad. That memory is so vibrant, realizing that Barbie, Skipper and Ken were going to be put away and one day, I wouldn’t even take them out of their pink, glittery box again. It was a sad, sad day…
Until I realized the Nolan boys were outside and well….that’s all she wrote.
No Growing Up can suck. I never did realize some of my childhood dreams and it’s not like I was asking for the moon or something, I mean:
I wanted to be a Barbie….shut it…I was obsessed with Barbies.
I wanted to marry Shaun Cassidy.
I wanted to live in a Barbie Dream House (shut it) with Shaun Cassidy.
I wanted to be a twin.
Or a triplet. that would have rocked.
I wanted to be a teacher. (which is wholy humorous due to my lack of patience with all things 21 and under!)
I wanted to train horses.
I wanted to look like my 3rd grade teacher, Ms. Bellamy. (5’1″, petite and long blonde hair…a Barbie)
So I have decided that 40 isn’t gonna scare me. I am okay with 40. I may STOP at 40, but it sounds good. I realize that:
I am not going to be a Barbie. At 5’8″. brunette and “full figured”, Barbie isn’t in the cards. I could however, be her funny acerbic neighbor, Patty…yes? And the whole gay thing….I don’t think Barbie is…but I am, so that may be an issue. Don’t EVEN get me started on Ken’s sexuality!!!
I won’t be marrying Shaun Cassidy. *le sigh*….he’s a bit older, a bit married and there’s the boy bits….*le sigh*
I won’t be moving in to the Dream House with Shaun…no….I moved into a dream house with the Daughter, the Son, My Girl and the puppy population.
As I wasn’t born a twin or a triplet, no matter how hard I tried to convince others that I was (‘nother story) the closest I can come is that Kenner knows me better than anyone…and Tanner finishes my sentences. So between the three of us, that’s triplets. But Kenner is a twin, so does that make us quadruplets?
The teacher dream went out the window when I realized that I haven’t finished elementary school yet, and at almost 40, it’s starting to piss me off. I mean, I did my own time when I was a kid, and in my twenties went BACK to 1st grade with my first grader….alll the way to middle school…projects, book reports, effin math…I had my degree, what the hell?!?!
Decided to do it again, that the first or even the second time wasn’t enough for me…Round Three in elementary school…there are days, as I am cursing over the “New Math” that the son brought home, I wonder how these people get through the day without drinking or slipping the kids a mickey…yeah, teaching wasn’t in my cards. Accountng was…don’t hate.
I no longer want to train horses. I worked at the rodeo for three years. Yeah, enough horses and their poo for me. Period.
I will never look like Ms. Bellamy. Taller, rounder and brunette…yeah….must have been the Barbie thing.
I do say, I have it good. I have my kids, my mouthy, loud, allergic to chores kids. They may not be your idea of perfection on Earth, but they are mine. I love them with all my might and am quite proud of how they are turning out.
I have a partner that puts up with me, the allergy prone offspring, my lack of ever being incorrect and my size twelve feet. I love this chick. She rocks. Whenever I think that the world is reversing on it’s axis and things will never be the same, she calms me down, reminds me that it can’t possibly be that bad and waits until she is out of the room before laughing at me. Where she should be the most hardened cynical person, she is the sweetest, most positive one in my life. Now if we could just get the dog to quit barking at the Boy…
yeah, life is pretty sweet….bring on the 40’s…