birthday week – thanks, mom
I decided that since my “birthday” is this Friday, I would write a post about my journey into 40-something. See, you learn a lot about the world in your 20s. You learn a lot about yourself in your 30s. In your 40s, you learn how to make sense of both. (and which moisturizers work and which ones don’t)
You also learn the true meaning of concepts such as “metabolism”, “acid reflux”, and “that not so fresh feeling.” It’s not as bad as all that though. I’ve grown ever more patient, I’ve learned to weed out what’s really important and what can be thrown out, and I’ve learned that skipping my period is no big deal, partially because I’m careening toward The Change, and at the risk of TMI, because I haven’t had sex with a man since 1987.
The one thing that hasn’t changed and probably won’t, is my compulsion to call my mother whenever something happens that I haven’t experienced before. It doesn’t matter that she isn’t a doctor, or a mechanic, or a professional chef. She is the first person I call when I have a weird rash or have car trouble or burn a roast. She never says, “I don’t know.” She will tell me to call my doctor or car dealership, but she always has an answer. I have a feeling she got that from her mother. My grandmother was a middle school, high school, and later adult ed. English teacher. She always had an answer, even if she had to make it up.
So I suppose this post is a shout out to my mother and mothers everywhere who always have all the answers, even if they are made up. We appreciate it.