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.)

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Turning 40 on Facebook

So it’s no secret, today is my 40th birthday.

I’ve been blogging, gabbing, texting and writing about this day for weeks now, it’s certainly not something I’ve made any effort to hide.

This is the my first birthday since I joined Facebook last fall.

The big day has finally arrived. I was wise enough to take off work today so I could celebrate in style and sleep late.

I eventually drug myself out of bed, made it to my beloved coffee and booted up the laptop.

Now, keep in mind, for the past 39 years or so, birthday wishes have been limited to random Hallmark cards in the mail, a few e-mails, and the required phone calls from my mom singing me Happy Birthday like she does every year, and my dad sounding all sentimental about me being another year older.

As the kids have grown up, I’ve been lucky enough to get a few birthday text messages also, which I am sure I paid out the wazoo for, seeing as how unlimited texting is relatively new and they were most certainly over the limit when they sent those.

Enter Facebook and 200 of my closest friends, family, neighbors and people I’ve never even met, that are collectively called my ‘friends.’

God, I love technology. What did we do before Facebook?

Instead of going to the mailbox and hoping to see a card or two from distant relatives and hearing my own voice echo back from an empty mailbox, I woke up this morning to hoards of birthday wishes, cupcakes, flowers, plants, cards, James Avery Jewelry and Farm Animals wishing me Happy Birthday.

All before 9 am.

Which was absolutely excellent seeing as how I didn’t have to walk to the mailbox and bare my Kate up-do to the neighbors before I’d had a chance to cement it in place.

The first birthday wish arrived from the super neighbor next door at about 12:02 am or so.

My poor brother somehow thought that he would get up at the crack of dawn and be the first to wish me Happy Birthday online, only to find out that he’d been beaten by a dozen other people.

I have a feeling I might never see an actual Hallmark Card in the mail again, which is just fine with me.

Well, I take that back.

Dad, if you’re reading this, please continue to send me your Hallmark card.

It’s the only one that still comes with a check in it.

As for the rest of my 'friends,’ from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Online cupcakes have never made a middle aged, working mom so happy.

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The Final Countdown

Well, D-day is nearly here.

Tomorrow is the big day, the big 4-0.

I think today I might run to the grocery store and yank out a bunch of random magazine subscription cards just so I can check off all the demographic boxes that say ‘Under 40’ on them, before it’s too late and I have to lie.

Or, I could go try to buy some liquor and see if I get carded so I can point out to the cashier that I’m 39?

Just in case my husband and kids are reading this, remember, I took off work tomorrow to celebrate the start of my new decade.

I am expecting breakfast in bed, flowers, and lots of fancy gifts.

Just kidding. Don’t panic.

The living room full of people who surprised me last weekend while I was still in my Snoopy pajamas, without makeup, will hold me over for a few years in terms of birthday gifts.

And, a note to my parents: I hope you are not too terribly stressed about having to tell people you have a child that is 40.

(Wow, just typing that sounds bad, let me know the first time either of you make that statement to someone else, aloud. You might want to practice alone first.)

I was informed by a Generation Y co-worker last week that 30 is the new 20. So that means that 40 must be the new 30. Right?

See, we’re all good. Just tell everyone you have a 30 year old child. No one needs to know the truth.

And just think, you could have been hanging out at Woodstock.

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