So with all the baby talk going around, I am almost nearly forgetting that I’ll be turning 40 in 10 days! Maybe it’s really all a ploy to get us all focused on the baby and not me turning 40. Maybe I am way more crafty than I think I am.
I suppose 40 is some kind of milestone. I felt really great about 30. It was a good year all in all. It doesn’t seem like 10 years ago, but then again, maybe it does. So much has happened. Well, quite a lot of it happened in the past year, so there’s that. I’d like to think I’m much more mature and wiser than I was at 30. In some ways, I can humbly say I am. I am not doing the dreadfully dumb things I was doing at 30. I’m doing a whole new set of dumb things, just not quite as dreadful.
And the race is on between my birthday and my kiddo’s. We’ll see who is more ambitious. Honestly, I thought a lot about sharing a birthday with Baby W. Seeing how September 30, 1973 is not in fact my actual date of birth, (and I can say that with a very high degree of certainty) it would be like poetic justice to have my baby born on that seemingly arbitrary day. I’m not going to be terribly upset if it doesn’t happen, but it would be kinda cool, yo.
For all intents (intense?) and purposes, I am 40 already. Having my first child at 40 seemed really crazy and daunting a year ago. Getting married for the first and last time at 39 seemed crazy and daunting too. I still try to wrap my head around the fact that I’m married to the most amazing man I’ve ever known and having his kid. It still makes me feel a little giddy like when I’m sitting on a picnic bench and he is walking to get us something to drink, and I think “that man is all mine.” Maybe it’s the hormones but I don’t think so. I think it’s the fact that I finally really understand how grace works. Well, not completely, but you know what I mean. And it may have taken me this long but there’s no use kicking myself over it now. Better late than never, right?
“I waited patiently for the Lord;
He turned to me and heard my cry.”
-Psalm 40 and this…