Monday, September 14, 2009

"Fly free and happy beyond birthdays and across forever..." (Richard Bach)

Today is Monday.
Today is Monday, September 14th.
Today is Monday, September 14th, 2009.
I was born on Sunday.
I was born on Sunday, September 14th.
I was born on Sunday, September 14th, 1969.

Do you know what that means?

It means I'M 40 YEARS OLD TODAY.

I know that most people, women especially for some reason, dread their 40th birthday; some play it down celebrating only with close family, some don't celebrate at all, some ask everyone not to even mention it, and some avoid it altogether or even LIE about it.

Not me. I'm loving it. I always love my birthday, but this one is extra special for me. I've been waiting to turn 40 for about 20 years now. Weird? Maybe. I've always had a sense that my 40's would be my best decade - I'd have a good sense of self, know my direction in life, and be ready to march forward, instead of walking tentatively through so much yet undiscovered. I've never been real comfortable being "young". And by that I mean, I wasn't a comfortable teenager, college student or young adult. There was a time in my mid 20's that felt good, like I was in charge, but part of me knew even then that it was just "young adult hotheadedness". Don't misunderstand me...I wasn't unhappy, just not fitting into my skin yet. I guess my skin needed a few wrinkles to feel truly comfortable.

I have stepped carefully through my life so far. I've tried to always look forward: choosing jobs to learn certain skills and obtain certain experiences, surrounding myself with friends that are in for the long haul and will be there when I'm old and grey and finally stressed out about it, stopping now and then to file away what life lessons I've learned, being sure to enjoy many single moments so that when I am old and grey I'll have oodles of memories of wonderful times and a life well lived.

I don't feel the slightest bit old. In fact, I don't feel any different than I did when I was that hot-headed young adult ready to take on the world. I still feel that way, and I still think of myself as that person, only now I feel more sure and real. I don't even look 40. Do I? I don't really think so (since I'm being all honest and open here). When I was 31, I was downtown with Jake and Grace (he was 3 and she was 1 and in a stroller) and I stopped by the convenience store for a bottle of water. While I was there, I opted to grab a lottery ticket too. I was carded. I had to show my license to prove I was 18. (Aside: I have since thought about this and I strongly feel that a mother of two, no matter what the age, should be allowed to buy a lottery ticket without being carded. Think of it, if you aren't 18 yet and you have two kids, you deserve the lottery ticket even more, don't you?). And when AJ and I moved to Maine at the age of 25, we used to frequent Federal Jacks where the bartender affectionately called me "Twelve". When we sat at the bar he'd greet us, "Oh look, it's Twelve and her man." I can't say that bothered me ONE BIT. Still doesn't - though admittedly those occasions of being carded are fewer and farther between. I guess I must at least look 25 now.

I also love to be the center of attention, and always have. So, as I said, I love birthdays. And I'm milking this one for all it's worth. Because, this one only comes once, and for me, it's like no other. IT'S THE BEST ONE (well, my Sweet 16 birthday wasn't too shabby either - remember that one Mom and Dad?). Don't be too shocked if I paint my house pink today and wrap it in satin ribbon with an enormous gift-tag that shouts to the world HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATE! If you're driving down the street and see me dancing on the sidewalk, singing "Happy Birthday to Me!" at the top of my lungs, don't be alarmed. Just wave. And if you want to honk you're horn, even better.

And do I think I've reached that point that I've been looking forward to? That "I'd have a good sense of myself, know my direction in life, and be ready to march forward..."? Yes, I do. I never doubted this would be my time and now I'm sure.

So look out world, I have arrived.
Now, if I could just find those ruby slippers and that gemstone encrusted tiara...

4 comments:

nana said...

Kate,

Kate, you're the best! I'm so happy that you're so happy on your birthday!! (And no, you don't look forty, Twelve.)

I'm delighted to have had you in my life for the last forty years. You are a joy to me--and have brought me two other wonderful people, Jake and Grace, to whom you're also a joy!

Love, Mom

Critter's Mom said...

Remember, just a few years ago, when the mother of Jake's playmate assumed you were the nanny? You do NOT look 40.

Happy, happy HAPPY to YOU! You have definitely arrived.

Katrine said...

Yes, Critter's Mom, I remember. Jake was about 9 years old and she thought I was "the older sister." Then proceeded to chomp down some of our rhubarb straight from the garden declaring it reminded her of her childhood. That was a lovely, sunny afternoon and I was playing catch with the two boys in the backyard and they were being very silly. One of those memories I'll hold onto.

Lisa's Cocina said...

Kate, I hope you didn't have too much trouble wrapping your house in that big ribbon, or doing the birthday jig in front of it. I hope you had a FABULOUS birthday!

I loved your post, and will constantly reference to it as a reminder that birthdays and experience and life are to always be cherished. I will need this post when I turn 40 :-)

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