or: “When In The Hell Did I Grow Up?”
(Note: this is my first attempt at posting via WordPress for Android. Any formatting errors will be fixed after my road trip.)
Today I turn 40. Last Wednesday my husband turned 40. These two occasions have had me/us talking about growing older with our friends, family and coworkers. Now, I can pretty comfortably say that I am not having any major issues with this birthday. I’m not depressed or crying or sad like some people get. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but that is just not my case. I think it is because I really don’t feel like I’m 40. When I say it, it sounds like I’m talking about someone else, becuase seriously? I’m not 40. Whatevs.
I recently read a post over at Dad Gone Mad that kind of echoes how I feel about getting older. I don’t know that I’d classify myself as totally immature, but I think that I have a level of immaturity about me. And I’m totally cool with that. I figure that it allows me to relate on a better level with my 9 year old. And my husband.
However, a recent conversation I had with a girl at work about my life made me realize that there are certain things that make me feel as old as hell. Maybe not as old as hell … but at least they make me feel like ….. an adult.
14 Years With My Husband. Dave and I met 14 years ago this past February. Now I understand that 14 years together doesn’t seem like much to some people. But I am the child of a broken marriage and my mom and stepfather also divorced. My first marriage ended in divorce fairly quickly and I could seem to sustain a long-term relationship, ever. So 14 years seems like a frickin’ award-winning performance in my book. And for some reason, that number 14 has a bigger impact on my brain than does 40.
My Daughter Turns 16. This is the biggie. This is my baby girl turning 16. Old enough to get a job. Old enough to drive a car. Old enough to take my son to lacrosse practice. Wait, maybe this isn’t so bad after all. Anyway, she and I have been through some stuff together. I think back to the immediate post-divorce times when it was just her and I in that crappy little apartment. Those were some of the best times and I think that is why we are so close today. But again, 16 seems worse than 40.
Time Passes. It has been almost 22 years since I graduated from high school. I started singing in Sweet Adelines nearly 24 years ago. My dad passed away 11 years ago. All of those numbers make me realize just how much (and how quickly) time has passed.
But whatever these things make me feel, I can’t stop from turning 40 today. So I will be spending the weekend with my friends and family at a singing competition/convention in Cleveland. I will stay up too late and drink too much for my age. At least that is what some might say. But I say to hell with them. I’m an immature 29 year old trapped in a 40 year old body. I may wake up with a headache and sore joints … but I will have had fun dammit. And because of that, I will have started my 40th year having a shit-ton of fun with people I care about. Can you really ask for more?