I had no problem with turning 40 last year.
I embraced it.
I relished it.
Face it, I totally rocked 40!
Forty-one, however, has given me pause.
A few weeks ago I started to think about what 41 looks like.
It is different for everyone, but for me this is what 41 looks like.
Forty-one is slightly overweight, but resigned to the fact that my 23 inch waist from high school is completely out of reach.
Forty-one has embraced being healthy over being a certain size.
Forty-one is stiff joints, and *gasp* bifocals!
Forty-one is being the embarrassing mom to a teenager instead of the cool mom of a pre-teen.
Forty-one is laugh lines, the occasional silver (I refuse gray) hair.
Forty-one is asking my husband, “Does this make me look old?” instead of “Does this make me look fat?”
(Ranger, if you are reading this, the only correct answer to this is “NO!”)
Forty-one is realizing that the music of my youth is now known as “the Greatest Hits of the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s!”
Forty-one is jamming to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in the student union and when the students look at me with wonder that I know this song, I look at them and say, “Dude, this is my generation! I lived through Grunge and mosh pits!” I think I am being invited to speak to their history classes.
Forty-one is accepting that while I enjoy Zumba, it is not something I should be seen doing in public.
(Forty-one is KNOWING I would end up in traction even trying to “twerk.”)
Forty-one sounds like, “Because I’m the Mom and when you are the mom then you will know too!”
Forty-one is recognizing that my mom isn’t hiding in my bathroom mirror and that it is really my own reflection.
Forty-one is going to the library everyday not to hang out or to study, but to work.
Forty-one is acknowledging the craft projects started 15 years ago will never get completed. Time to move on.
Forty-one is trying not to relive my youth through my children. I can do this, I know it!
Forty-one is accepting that I have said teenager (see above) who will be starting high school, then college, then getting married, then having babies, then will be 41 herself!
This is where my age problem lies.
Dude! I’ve had a breakthrough!
I don’t have a problem with me turning 41, I a problem with Big turning 13.
So, really, if 40 is the new 30, then 41 is the new 31 right?
In that case, 41…
BRING IT ON!
I’ve got this!