I was born in 1972. That means that next year I will turn the big 4-0. Sometimes I'm bothered by it, sometimes it doesn't mean a thing. I was one of the younger ones in my class, having an August birthday with the age cut-off being 5 years old by September 1 to start kindergarten. So, many of my classmates have already hit the milestone and many more will be there shortly before me. Every few days, I log on to Facebook to see yet another friend turning 40. In many cases, forty is met with much celebration and I see posted pictures of creatively decorated lawns and interesting attire or headgear for the birthday recipient.
I honestly, don't feel my age very often. The other day I sat in front of my computer after having just read another chapter in Twilight, listening to Taylor Swift and eating candy corns when most people were eating breakfast. What nearly 40-year-old does that? Sometimes I feel like I'm still a teen with the same insecurities and the same naive view of the world...if only I were in the same body. :)
However, I do feel myself slowing down, not as active in playing with my kids as I used to, bothered by having to climb the long flights of stairs with a basket full of 22 pounds of folded laundry. I don't feel it in one way and do feel it in others. It's just a number, right? So, why do I seem to be dreading it so much? I guess it's just another reminder of how you can't turn things back and how time marches on. A slap in the face that my children aren't going to be climbing back into my lap or learning to walk or read again. Those days are gone, but also more good ones are ahead. Life is good, even in the big 4-0 is on the horizon.