There are plenty of other things I could be posting about right now - the gorgeous wedding we attended last night, the end result of Mikayla's week out at Harlow, or even the long overdue adventure we had with Michele's high school girls last weekend.
However, what is really on my mind - like the oppressive cloud of gray outside my window right now - is the reality that by this time tomorrow, I will be a forty year old.
It's not something I've ever anticipated being excited about, but I think it's taken me by surprise just how "down" I am about the whole thing. I spend so much of my life with folks who are 15-20 years below my age and I know how they view "40". It's old. It's a LONG ways away. By turning 40, I feel like, at least numerically - I've leaped to the other side of the canyon.
Forty is NOT old. I KNOW that. Nothing will change overnight with how my body functions and feels. It's just a label or a distinction I'm not exactly thrilled to have.
In light of the circumstances in Aurora, Colorado - or the plight of people suffering all over the world, having a "poor, pitiful me" moment on my blog feels extremely self-serving. But, I'm just being honest.
Part of the issue is that our birthday has always kind of marked a turning of the tide of summer. It's a build-up event, and once it is over - on the horizon is August, purchasing school supplies, the dreadful first weeks of Pop Warner football, and, of course, returning to school. I don't want to be at this point yet, either. Granted, July has moved at such a fast pace it's been almost stressful to try to keep up - but, oh what a ride it's been. I don't want it to be over - just like I don't want the decade of my thirties to be over.
But, that's not how time works. Everybody applauds the 20's decade - as if that is the place we'd all want to stay. I figured that was true until I compared it with my 30's and recognized just how much better they were - by a landslide. How funny it will be if that's what I'll be saying ten years from now about how much I loved life in the "40's".
In the meantime, I'm trying to shake the "Debbie Downer" mood. Fortunately, I'm not alone. While she'll have 12 more minutes of delay before accepting the 40 reality than I will, Michele is going through the same thing. We both have been hashing it out, encouraging one another, and recognizing this year's birthday just isn't all that much fun, despite our attempts to plan activities that would make it that way.
Today, with any luck, the clouds will clear both literally and figuratively as we head out to the lake as a family. And, even if they don't - life will go on - and tomorrow I will turn 40.