So, I had a birthday last week…43.
Apparently, just because I said I wasn’t having any more birthdays after the big 4-0, it wasn’t enough to stop them from happening. I actually wasn’t afraid of turning forty… it came, I survived…no big deal. The next two years were pretty much more of the same. Forty three, however, has been different.
Holy changes, batman!
To start, why can’t I sleep?! Like, ever??
If it’s not the buzz saw, also known as my husband, snoring next to me, it’s an eight year old’s knee placed firmly in my lower back. If it’s neither of those things, it’s the always lovely night sweats. I’m assuming said night sweats are caused by hormones. Which speaking of hormones, HOLY. CRAP. I have never been much of a crier or an emotional person. Now, I can’t make it through and episode of This is Us without the water works. Happy tears. Sad tears. Snot inducing ugly crying. Doesn’t matter, I got ’em all.
And why is it on a Tuesday night when you are yelling at one kid to do their homework while herding another one to the shower, the thought of going out on Saturday sounds fabulous. Fancy clothes… or just any clothes that you didn’t pick up off the floor that morning. Actually putting on make-up. Grown up conversation and adult beverages. Sign. Me. Up.
Fast forward to Saturday at 5:00 pm and all you want to do is pour a glass of wine, throw on slippers and pjs, and binge watch Netflix. I”m not even particular about what I’m binge watching… maybe something new, or maybe episodes of Law and Order SUV that I have only seen five times. Just the idea of binge watching makes me giddy.
Speaking of slippers, I have worn out 2 pairs of UGG slippers in the last 6 months. No joke. My “grown-up”shoes, as I like to call them, are in perfect shape and collecting dust in my closet. I wore heels to a wedding a few weeks ago and I swear, my feet hurt for like four days afterwards. No joke. Slippers for the win. All day. Every day.
So here’s the deal. Your twenties are spent doing whatever, whenever. You can drink like a fish, party all night, and hangovers are no big deal. Your thirties are spent in denial that you are not in your twenties anymore…. you try and keep it up because no way are you going to succumb to being OLD. I think I’m ready to embrace my forties for what they are meant to be…. exactly what I want them to be… and for now, it is a bunch of TV watching, slipper wearing, crying over fictional TV characters, and trying every sleeping remedy known to man until I find one that works.