Birthday Girl

The day of my 40th birthday has arrived at last. It's hard for me to believe that I've been around for 40 years. Truthfully, I only remember about 35 of them, so it hardly seems fair that I'm burdened with those extra five years added to my age. I know some people say they have memories from when they were three, or four, but I can't say that I do. Perhaps I will start a new trend where people are as old as their first memory. In that case, I'm only 35. Well, who am I kidding...my body is 40 years old and that my friends, is that.

Around May of this year I started to finally come to grips with the idea that I was to be turning 40 in a few months and it didn't quite sit well at first. Over time I got used to idea (let's face it, the sands of time are trickling through the hourglass, whether we like it or not) and I began to look for a way to make the whole number more appealing and I came up with a theory. I'm not a kid anymore, so I don't need to be spoken to in a manner that belies my well earned wisdom. I am far more wise at 40 than I was at 25. I will not take any guff from bossy, incompetent blowhards. When someone of that ilk tries to tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about, I can now reply, " Hold on a minute, I am 40 years old, don't speak to me like I am a 20 something who is wet behind the ears!". (I just felt behind my ears and it's quite dry back there. Mental note; I may need to apply some of my expensive firming cream to that area.) I can look at my new fourth decade as a license to being an actual grown up, who doesn't need to take any crap from anybody. Finally, a way to make this dawn of a new decade positive. Hallelujah!

Aside from needing more Advil, firming cream, and consistent hair coloring appointments, turning 40 isn't much different from the last ten, or so birthdays. My body definitely hurts a little more upon getting out of bed each day, my face has a few more lines than it used to, and now that I've let my hair turn it's natural color, I see that I've been covering up a hair color that resembles Mrs. Claus. On the bright side, I'm still thin and fit, thanks to giving up ice cream as a sixth food group. So, my hair is grey, I have crows feet around my eyes and a bit of arthritis, but I still act like a goofy girl most of the time and I'm happy, so what more can one ask for? Here's to forty years of a blessed life! I shall welcome my fourth decade with a toast to my amazing husband, friends, family and adored pets. Cheers!