A year ago, I wrote a post about being a year out from my 40th birthday. It feels like I wrote that yesterday. But yesterday, I actually did turn 40, so apparently, an entire year has passed. I don’t even know how that happened, but the older I get, the faster time seems to go.
That post was all about plans for the year, ways to get healthy. I didn’t really do any of them. If I’m being honest, I forgot most of them as soon as I finished writing the post. This year passed, like so many others, in a blur. There are moments that stand out, good times and bad that will ultimately define this year in my memory, but the year leading up to 40 was no more significant than turning 40 itself. I tend to idealize moments, think that when I hit a certain point, things will be magically different. I had this idea that at 40, I would somehow have everything together, be this paragon of maturity and grace, the perfect picture of modern working motherhood. And I guess I sort of was?
At the exact moment I turned 40 years old, 4:26PM yesterday, I was in the middle of picking up both kids at school/daycare, wishing I’d taken the day off from work, and jamming to Ariana Grande on the radio. And then the moment was gone, slipped by, and it wasn’t noteworthy, except to note that it’s pretty indicative of my life. And it’s a good life. A really good life.
In terms of where the plans for the past year went…
Weight loss? There was none. Well, there was some but not for more than a minute, and I’m roughly in the same place I was last year. It’s okay. I’ll get there. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But I’ll get there.
Running? Nope. That half marathon didn’t happen, couldn’t happen, and there hasn’t been any running since then either. It’s okay. I’ll get there. Or I’ll decide that isn’t where I want to go, and I’ll get somewhere else.
General health and happiness? Sometimes? I don’t stop and enjoy the little things enough. I spend too much time on the internet. I let anxiety get the best of me. I beat myself up for bad choices. I worry, even though I know worrying won’t change the outcome of things. I think, far too much, about where I should be, instead of embracing where I am.
It’s okay, I’ll get there.
I woke up today, my first full day of being 40, and I felt… exactly the same as I did yesterday. Except that I have a whole new decade stretching out ahead of me until the next big birthday, and it just feels full of possibility. What will my 40s be? What will I make them?
I have no idea. Well, I have a lot of ideas, but right now, they’re all sort of swirling around in my head like confetti dropped into a wind tunnel. They are idea-lets, none of them fully formed. Eventually, the wind will die down, and it will be the time of making lists and making plans and making decisions. And I will. And it will be okay. And I will get there.
But for now, I’m off to spend some much needed girl time with my bffl. Coffee and shopping and giggling somewhere, because we are us and that just sort of happens.
And then later, I’ll pick up the kids while jamming to Jason Derulo, and be glad I took today off.
And it’s Friday, so we’ll get take out and maybe go to the mall.
And tomorrow morning, I’ll drive my son to swimming and my daughter to her job and I’ll go grocery shopping.
And I’ll take a minute here and there to look around, to soak it in, to remember.
This is 40.