I turned 40 yesterday. 40 is the age that always sounded old when I was younger. I remember when my mom turned 40. 40....40....40.....Obviously I'm having a hard time with this one. When I turned 30 I was excited. There is something sophisticated about 30. When I turned 31 I decided that I would be "30ish" for as long as I could pull it off. No matter what anyone says, I can't pull off "30ish" any more. It feels too much like a lie. I am 40. I can't call it anything else. Why does that sound so ugly to me? It is just a number. What does it mean anyway? Who cares? For whatever reason, I do. My adorable husband, who incidently has become quite a romantic, reminded me that he has now known me and loved me for more of my life than not. I was 19 when we met and 20 when we married. We celebrate our 20th anniversary next week. For him, yesterday was significant in a really good way and from that perspective I'd have to agree and also add that I am a very blessed woman to have him! In fact, my life is exactly everything I ever wanted. I have four beautiful, bright, healthy, fun daughters. I have a lovely home where I am able to raise them and a husband who works hard so I can be home with our children. He has a good job with job security. I have faith, friends and family. I am living the dream. I really need to get over my obsession with a number. My sister in law told me to embrace 40. I guess that is what this silly blog that no one will ever read is all about. Like it or not--I will embrace 40.
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