CONFESSIONS OF A WOMAN IN HER MID-THIRTIES

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I am about to turn 36. Sitting at 35, I have been directly between 30 and 40, but the scale is about to tip. I will officially be closer to 40 years old than 30.

This occurred to me the other day when my husband said something about being 37. To which I had replied, “No you’re not.” He is. It’s just that we forget our ages sometimes… a true sign of aging.

Suddenly, his age sounded old. We are only a little over a year apart, and my age is about to sound old too.

Thank God.

I feel old. I have felt old for years. I think it is the whole three kids thing.

By the end of this summer, all three of our kids will be in the double digits. I have been changing diapers, setting boundaries, cuddling, reading with, feeding, scolding, chasing, cleaning up after, loving, helping with homework, and worrying about younger lives for the past 13 and a half years.

Yeah, I haven’t felt young in a long time. I have felt happy, content, joyful, and mostly tired, but not young.

Creeping toward forty feels old, but it feels comfortable and right.

I have a theory. I think I will feel younger in about nine years. I will stroll onto to our youngest child’s college campus, and it will hit me. I will be in my mid-forties with an empty house. I will have the responsibility of a typical 22 year old.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my kids. I know I will miss them and all the wonderful, amazing, crazy, chaos they bring my life. Just think about it though, I could start a new career at 45 and work for 20 years at it before retiring- all without any kids at home. TWENTY years.

Friends, please don’t tell people that I fantasize about my kids leaving the house so I can read all the books I want and determine my evening schedules based solely on what Jon and I want to do. They will get the wrong idea.

I’m really happy and in love with my children.

It is only in moments that I am feeling really old (and tired) that I look forward to the responsibility free, youngish days of waking up without thinking about the schedules of five people.

I may be pushing 40, but I don’t mind. I like where I am, and I am fairly certain those 40s are going to look pretty great too.

I am a woman in my mid-thirties, and I like it.

2 thoughts on “CONFESSIONS OF A WOMAN IN HER MID-THIRTIES

  1. My father-in-law never celebrated birthdays because he said numbers were negative – we always are “too young” for this or “too old” for that. While I disagreed with the birthday concept [everyone should be celebrated for at least one day a year], his rejecting of numbers stuck with me — at an age twice yours [opps, there I did it]. 🙂

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