Rambling Self Portrait at 40

My big day finally arrived, came and is almost over.

It was a great day, in all aspects.

I didn’t notice a single extra wrinkle or gray hair.

No more 30’s, no more subscription cards or church groups that are for people ‘Under 40.’ I’ve officially graduated to groups that start with the ‘4.’

For all the joking I’ve done over the past few months about this day arriving, I couldn’t be happier.

Yes, I actually woke up this morning, looked in the mirror, and I realized how happy I am to be here, at this point in my life.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, I might skip the butcher haircut from last week.

And I might have tried to trade my little brother in.

But, his kids ended up too darn cute and they’re sort of a package deal.

But I wouldn’t change anything else. Life is good. I’ve been blessed.

I went shopping yesterday, a birthday gift from my mom, and a momentary distraction from my once again tween boy overloaded house.

Once I heard how outnumbered I was at home, I told them I was going shopping, and said if they got hungry to eat the Cocoa Puffs.

In the midst of trying on the Lucky Jeans I’ve waited a year to purchase (and fit into), I paused, had a brief return to my twenties, and struck the above pose in the Macy’s dressing room.

I decided it was finally time to come out with the hair cut, and my 40th birthday seemed like the perfect moment.

I’m great. Forty doesn’t need to be thirty.

As far as I’m concerned, I’m not over the hill.

I’m sitting on top of it.

And honey, don’t even think about trying to trade me in for a younger model.

I realized, after my dressing-room-photo-session that I AM the younger model.

After all, where else will you find a 40-something wife to three teenagers that looks more like Posh Spice. Who needs that Kate.

40 is fun. Life is good. And size 6 Luckys that fit without needing to lie down on a bed to zip up are fabulous.

(Note: My buddy Jason at Dog Makes Five.com made me post this tonight as a follow up to the morning post. He swears people want to read about more than just turning 40 on Facebook. So there ya go. Forty years old and I’m still submitting to peer pressure. Sheesh.)