So, this summer I turned 39. I love birthdays, so I want you to know that I seriously can’t wait to turn 40. Milestone birthdays are the best because they give you a REAL REASON to celebrate for many, many days. So, when next June rolls around, you can KNOW FOR SURE that I’ll be excited.
Here’s the thing, though. This particular milestone has some other milestones attached. Like, I’m done having kiddos. There are three. They outnumber us and that’s slightly terrifying. So, no more. We’re settled. We know how to do this life for the most part, even though if you see/hear me at any given point after 5 p.m. you might doubt that. But, everyone is alive, healthy, happy (enough- I mean they are kids, they are no doubt tormented by wanting/”needing” something at this very moment). I have a virtually endless supply of wine, thanks to deciding that while I don’t PREFER boxes of wine, they are perfectly fine and are good to have around. I could go on, but my point is…
We’re all okay. We’re totally doing this life.
Here’s the OTHER thing, though. More seriously. I have lived a lot of my life fairly dissatisfied with myself. I mean, I know. That’s depressing and a whole other thing. But I’m sort of sick of it, and I’m sort of determined to go into my 40’s (and beyond) in a better place.
I don’t mean skinny. Or vegan. Or with a flat stomach (because let’s be honest- I love food, beer, wine, and I have three kids). Or richer. Or smarter (because, three kids). I mean, I want to feel good. And love (some of) the things I do (because, three kids, and I do not love Metal Gear Solid OR cutting 30 fingernails and 30 toenails every few weeks). I want to be the best, happy, fun version of myself (which can’t possibly be the 25 year old version of me, because she was totally exhausting).
I want to learn to say no.
I want to learn to say yes.
I want to do a handstand in yoga. And crow. And side crow.
I want to stop eating processed food (for the most part, because Sour Patch Kids).
I know that I need to (but will not say that I want to) stop drinking Diet Coke.
And I’m sure the list goes on and on.
And maybe I’ll hold myself accountable if I’m reporting it to (my family via) the interwebs.
We’ll just see. If nothing else, we’ll end it all next June with a big party.
Not a marathon, because I’ve done that before here, and it was just terrifying. Turning 40 is much easier. It certainly can’t be harder.