I have always wanted to turn 40. By God's lovingkindness yesterday I did. I've thought being able to tell others I was 40 would earn me respect. Some say maybe if i stopped acting like a 12 year old boy then maybe it will.
Every morning when I rise out of bed I'm hopeful that a random woman in distress has put her baby in a basket on our doorstep overnight with a note attached asking me to raise him or her. I'd get a baby without having to go through the pregnancy or the whole adoption process. I thought possibly that would happen my birthday morning since it was my 40th and the mother would have respect for me because of my age. Naturally that's why she chose me(and maybe because I am obsessed with babies). I will continue to wait.
Someone asked me what I thought about entering this new decade and I told her grateful because I didn't think I would be around this long. Being the morbid worse case scenario woman that I am I thought by now something would have taken me out. Yesterday walking to meet 2 of my best friends for lunch I thought if a car would strike me and I entered into eternity, headlines would read "Young Middle Aged mother of 4 hit by car on 40th birthday. Weather was in the 70's unusual for this time of year. The sun was shining and the birds chirping. If there was a good time to go I'd say this Valentines Day was the prefect day" I guess I think of death a lot not in a fearful way but because it's basically unavoidable. I was talking to Julius's 98 year old grandfather a couple weeks ago and he said he doesn't feel a day older than 40 in his mind. I guess our souls are eternal so that only makes sense. I still have a hard time with people introducing me as Mrs. Milani when I still feel 16 (except wiser and not so stupid and naïve). I usually whisper "Please just call me Carey" and wink and then their mothers intercede, scold me and tell me their children will address me as Mrs. Where I grew up everyone we interacted with called each other by their first names but I should probably try and act more southern mannerish since I am living in these parts. Whatever, when in Rome.
I've never understood why you can't ask someone their age. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You did nothing wrong but were gifted more precious time on the planet. I hope a stranger this week has the balls to ask me my age. I will thank them for asking me and tell them I'm 40 and continue with a story about when I used to be in my 30's. I am always looking for opportunities to spread a little obnoxious wisdom.
One of the biggest blessings of gaining years is going through it with friends. Getting the fine lines together and hurting joints and all the stuff you used to hear older people talk about. Now it actually starts to slowly happen. It lessens the blow to experience it with friends especially laughing about it together because what's the point in crying. After I had my last baby at 38 is when the falling apart started to happen. Throwing my back out more, not recovering from workouts fast enough, my vision going, throbbing varicose veins, looking in the mirror saying "Where did you go young one?" It's gives me a challenge on finding ways to combat aging and I am always up for a game. One that I will lose because well, we are all heading out of this world. I started researching menopause years ago so I know what I am up against one day. If I make it that far in life I feel semi equipped. Until then I will be eating more protein, keeping up with the resistance training and throwing my back out while lifting the baby out of her crib.
If I had to sum up the past 15 years of my adult life I would say it has been a battle for my sanity. Having babies messed me up hormonally and it's been a really fun rollercoaster. Also our bodies just aren't perfect. There are times when I am flying high and times of despair mostly brought on by nothing but a hormonal imbalance. While I am holistic in my approach to life there have been times of medication to keep me afloat and balanced followed by times of don't put it near me if it's not fermented, organic, non gmo, cold pressed and raw only to be followed by driving across town searching the black market for narcotics that can stop my racing heart and help me sleep at night. A good night sleep can heal a lot of crazy. Insomnia mixed with crazy is a recipe for disaster. I can feel my absolute best by being in prayer and the Word of God daily, taking the right supplements, getting good sleep, eating whole and healthy, cutting the caffeine and alcohol, exercising consistently, getting in the sun, being in nature, not having any stress, yada yada yada. With all that in perfect place I am conquering the world. But life. Life doesn't always allow for all that. Case in point I love coffee too much with Julius every morning which wrecks my cortisol and adrenals glands. Once the caffeine kicks in we are throwing around new business ideas and planning vacations. I am sending out text invitations for dinner parties and river dancing to start the laundry and breakfast. Then comes that crash of tired but the heart still races making me feel anxious and nervous over nothing. Now that I type this out I think I'll start the coffee weaning process again starting tomorrow. And don't get me started on the alcohol, that wrecks my sleep to no end which messes with my hormones and mood. It's such a social thing it sneaks in out of nowhere though. But drinking an IPA on your 40th birthday sitting on a patio with your best friends when the weather is in the 70's and unusual for this time of year, the sun is shining and the birds chirping. If there was a good time to drink I'd say this Valentines day was the perfect day. Did I read that once in an obituary?
Anywho, recently I have experienced days of so much joy and have been filled with delirium overtaken by the giggles. I have not been able to stop laughing at times when something funny has happened. Tears streaming down my face, shaking convulsively. Sometimes it is the most blissful feeling and I wonder if this is how happy you are in heaven. Probably just another imbalance I'm experiencing. Also recently there are times that I am overwhelmed by the goodness of God and His presence in my life. The reflection of all He has saved me from. Then I have to go in my closet and cry and pour out my gratitude to a loving Father. Not an imbalance.
Well I'm 40 so I better wrap this up. Until next time. And with my track record next time will probably be my 50th if I'm still alive. Today I just thought what the heck, let me sit for a moment and elevate my right painful varicose stricken leg and strain my eyes at the computer screen and get out some thoughts. Having said all this I do hope I get to stick around long enough to see my children's children. That would be a gift. I sure do love them even though they are all naughty.
