In a couple of weeks I’ll be 41.
Taylor Swift wants me to dance like I’m 22. Really, I’d settle for holding my pee like I’m 22. If I dance like I’m 22, I will pee like I’m 41. And let’s not even talk about running, coughing, laughing, sneezing and jumping.
Prince used to sing about partying like it’s 1999. That used to sound so cool, until 1999 when I turned 27 and was having my first baby like it was 1999. Yeah, I was staying up all night – just me, my newborn and my glider rocker.
Bladder muscles weaken. Hairs turn gray. Joints begin to make noise. Elastic waistband pants become tempting. The TV in the bedroom is bigger and louder. The article “the” is spoken before words that don’t require it – let’s go to the Applebee’s for dinner! And worst of all, my husband sometimes refers to me as “mom” – and not in a sexy ‘hot mama’ way, either. Forgetfulness, sagging, uncontrollable flatulence…. it’s all part of the aging experience.
I’m a pretty open book when it comes to numbers – I’m currently 40 years old, 5’4″ tall, 125 lbs., size 9 shoe with a 29″ inseam and a 32″ waist. I’m very thick-waisted, however I have no butt. I think God thought it would be fun to take the fat from my butt and put it in my waist. He can be funny like that. But I digress….
The truth is, I’m so thankful to still be around to experience it all. I have never understood the mindset of women who refuse to share their age when asked. They respond as if the number of years they’ve been alive is a shameful secret, a curse, a-number-that-must-not-be -named. I just don’t get it.
I’m about to turn 41, and I’m so thankful that I’ve been given 41 years of life. Each year is a gift from God. Each year represents memories and blessings that mean so much to me. Each year is another opportunity to laugh, to grow, to learn and to love. Why would I view my number of years on earth as anything other than a gift to be celebrated?
I think I’ll dance like I’m 41.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16