You know, I’ve told myself I’m above having a midlife crisis about ages and dates. But it really is a weird psychological number.
Let’s start with the fact that all growing up, I REALLY didn’t think I’d live to be 4o. I thought the apocalypse would have come and gone and the world itself would have crumbled. But here it is, the eve of my 40th birthday . . . and guess what 18-year-old Rachael . . .I’M STILL HERE.
Here’s a little sampling of what’s on my mind:
So. Yes. This aging thing is real, and not that cool. I’ve found myself lifting up my eyelids and pulling back the edges of my face in the mirror. Nothing has been nipped, tucked, or injected. Frankly, I’m terrified of it. I’ve seen far too many women in their late 30’s and 40’s roaming around who’ve been hitting the nip, tuck, inject scene, and it seems to turn everyone into the same 50-70 year old frozen in time(ish) looking women with the same robot face.
But here’s the thing . . . I get it! I don’t want my face sagging off! I don’t want permanent elevens creasing between my eyelids. But I also don’t want to look like I’ve just been in a street fight and taken a direct hit to the mouth.
Please bless that some measure of grace will let me age gracefully and humanly. But yeah, I just saw my friend the other day and she just dropped 200 cc’s of something in her forehead and it did look tempting.
I’m Scared To Death
This has gone so fast. It keeps going faster. When I do the math (it’s Mormon math), I realize that if I were my own parents, my oldest child would be getting married in 5 years and I’d be a grandparent in 7 years. THAT. IS. CRAZY. My parents were grandparents by the ripe old age of 47. Tiny babies. That seems like yesterday.
And here I am with teenagers, and time just seems to keep speeding up, and I want to keep them in my house forever, but I feel like there is some sort of countdown clock ticking down somewhere in the ether. Sometimes I just want to freeze us all in place.
Yet I Love It
Speaking of teenagers . . . I used to imagine having teenagers as the window of life with the potential to be the darkest more miserable time in the world. I mean, TEENAGERS. They are crazy right?
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The best thing someone told me when my kids were tiny was “Oh just wait until you have teenagers . . .” (and then I waited for them to tell me things that would scare me. They continued: “Teenagers ARE MY FAVORITE”.
Well guess what? I love teenagers. And being a parent is still fun. It’s trickier. It’s morphed from mothering to parenting. Serious parenting. But I love it, and I love my not so little people and who they are becoming.
I’ve Got None Left To Give
GNF. If you don’t know what it means, Google it, away from your children. Hint: it doesn’t mean “Greibach Normal Form” — click on the Urban Dictionary link.
There’s a lot of things I really don’t care about any more. That saying: “Life is too short for fake butter, cheese, or people”
Amen to that!
I really like the people in my life. And I don’t care about impressing them, keeping up with them, or anyone else really.
What Bothers Me The Most?
So far it’s that I have to check a different demographic box. It doesn’t feel right. Yep. It’s stupid. But I don’t like it. Throwing me into this 40-60 zone? I don’t belong there.
Just give me the box that says RACHAEL. I’m good.
In the meantime, while I avoid checking boxes, here’s to 40 more trips around the sun! (Sunglasses and excellent lighting REQUIRED!)