So yesterday I turned 44.
Yeah that sounds all weird actually. It’s even a little tough to type because my mind can’t figure out where the time went. But that’s all so cliche and whatever. But all the 55-year-olds are like “What are you complaining about?” and all of the 33-year-olds are like “That’s not old even though they’re thinking it IS old…” and all of the 22-year-olds are like “I’ll never be THAT old…” and well, my kids just think it’s cool that I’m an age that has two of the same number.
And now that I think about it for one more second, it is kinda cool.
I’m having a rebirth of sorts, I think. A settling somewhere in between what my life used to be, what it is now and what it’s going to be. I guess that’s why 44 seems kinda cool. It’s a pretty smooth peaceful place where all the work I’ve put forth into my human experience is paying off in a variety of ways. Creative ways, productive ways, love ways. And love ways being the most rewarding of all….and simply reinforces my belief that relationships and love is where it’s at.
My journey of becoming a mother continues as it always will because this mother gig changes in a flash and all of a sudden I have a brand new challenge in front of me and my patience runs thin and then I survive it and grow a tiny bit more. Why do people even talk about what kid age is harder or easier or whatever to deal with as a mother? Each age is hard and easy in it’s own unique untouchable ways. In the middle of sleepless infant nights, I remember thinking it couldn’t get any harder than this and now it seems like a dream of beauty and peace compared to the battles between the kindred stubborn spirits of me and Claire or the demanding whining of my 4-year-old prince or the spontaneous moody shrieks of my emotive 7-year-old Love Fairy.
But it’s all a dream really and tomorrow it changes….
At the end of a happy birthday work day, I went to pick up Claire and Phoebe from their Irish Dancing class (another subject which deserves it’s own series of posts at some point in my life). At the end of their class, they gathered their shoes, water bottles, jackets and ran with two of their best friends to our mini-van as it was my turn to carpool. The four girls piled into the back of the van and settled in for the five minute drive home. We’re in a Camp Rock mode right now after a High School Musical phase so I immediately plugged my iPhone into the stereo and scrolled through the Camp Rock tunes that are currently marked as favorites on YouTube and decided on “A Brand New Day.”
As soon as the tune started playing, Claire yelled from the back, “Yay! You were reading my mind!” And then she turned to her friend seated next to her and said quite matter-of-factly with no intention of me hearing … “That’s what moms are for – reading your mind.”
And with that overheard statement it was like a flash of light and crisp clarity and confirmation in the middle of all of the confusing gray moments of motherhood where I wonder if I’m really doing anything right at all…and as I waited in the intersection for a left turn towards home, the tears welled up as they do when I get struck with one of those rare cool mama moments.
I guess I’m doing okay.
My 9-1/2 year-old thinks I’m a mind reader. Which is exactly what I’m supposed to be.
Happy 44th Birthday to me.