February 2, 2006 05:17 PM
The Big 4-0
On a hot, humid August morning in 2004, at exactly 11:10 a.m., I turned 40. It was one of the worst days of my life. Not because anything really terrible happened to me that day. No one was mean to me, I didn't get stuck in traffic, and I wasn't even having a bad hair day. I just didn't want to be 40--but I was, and there was nothing I could do about it. I sulked most of the day, and snarled at anyone unfortunate enough to cross my path.
On an equally hot, humid August morning in 2005, I turned 41. I sprang out of bed, and woke up my the kids yelling, "It's my birthday! Let's go do something fun!" My son served me breakfast in bed, and we planned out my birthday itinerary. The rest of my day was filled with some of the things I love most: shopping, eating out, and people giving me presents. That night, my family took me to my favorite restaurant for dinner, then my daughter and her boyfriend made me two-dozen vanilla cupcakes with butter cream frosting, and they sprinkled tiny chocolate chips on top. I proceeded to eat those cupcakes at almost every meal (even in place of a few meals) for the week that followed. I gained a couple of pounds and didn't care a bit. It was totally worth it.
What a difference a year made, huh? You may be expecting to hear some incredible story of what happened during that year between 40 and 41. But I don't have one to tell you. I didn't have a near-death experience that left such a profound affect on me that I let go of my silly, worldly hang-ups. No one close to me died that year and I didn't get a divorce. I wasn't even PMSing on my 40th, so my mood wasn't just caused by my hormones whipping me into an ultra-bitchy frenzy. So what happened?
Basically, I lived through my 40th year, and nothing terrible happened. In fact, not only did nothing terrible happen, but I learned that being in my 40s was, well, pretty damn fun. (I know it sounds corny. But what the heck.) I like the fact that my kids are now taller than I am, because it makes me feel like I'll have someone to take care of me if I ever need it. I don't care that my skin is a little dry and that my hair is a little gray around my forehead. (Between hair-coloring appointments, that is.) I like going to bed early sometimes and waking up feeling truly, utterly, rested, and still not feeling that I missed anything by turning in at 9 p.m. And I really like not giving a damn about what people think of me. To be perfectly blunt, being over 40 pretty much kicks ass, so far.
Now I'm halfway to 42. I'll let you know how the rest of it goes.
Comments
Another great thing about being in the 40's it's better than being in the 50's. : >
Posted by: mary at March 2, 2006 01:42 PM
