First there was the wicked stomach flu that hit me late Wednesday night, rendering me totally out of commission for the better part of two days. (Really there are no words friends, I haven't been that sick since I got food poisoning at age nine due to some shady shrimp). When I finally rejoined the land of the living, we were greeted with a massive ice storm (a.k.a. ice-ageddon) which effectively shut down the city, leaving all us Texas folk wondering how the hell to, you know, get through any basic daily task -- well, at least the adults... The kids, of course, were alright, romping about in the icy goodness, sleuthing out any semblance of an incline, in an attempt to execute their best Shaun White impression. During one particular act of daring do, Millie, being, well, Millie, landed flat on her face and busted open her lip, causing it to swell to Jocelyn Wildenstein-like proportions. Good times.
Cut to Friday night (are you tired yet?), and we're slowly car-sledding our way toward Nutcracker performance number one of four the girls were scheduled to perform in over the weekend (the last one is in a couple of hours), my sad stomach and Millie's lip explosion be damned. Let's just say the whole enterprise was a cluster. I mean really, all we could do was laugh.
But with the clarity of a single day, I can honestly say all that mayhem was a good thing. I mean let's face it...I'd set a pretty high bar for this birthday, what with the whole trying to become a perfect person experiment and all. (What was I thinking?) I was due for a dose of reality. And the reality is sometimes (ok, oftentimes) life is messy, kludgy, frustrating, downright disappointing. You just have to keep rolling through -- chin up, wits about you, spirits as high as they can possibly be.
Here's the thing: turning 40 turned out to be a little hard than I thought it would be. I talked a good game in the months leading up, but lying in bed early yesterday morning I'm not gonna lie, I felt old. A little sad even. But then I sucked it up and reminded myself that with the old (ok, ok, older) there's the wiser, the cooler, the more confident, the less neurotic, the just generally chilled out. But most important, there's the perspective. As shameful as it is for me to admit, I'm not sure I would have been so laissez-faire about the events of the past four days in my 30s, and I know I wouldn't have been in my 20s (let's just say I was not my best self in my 20s).
So here's to 40 (and laissez-faire and que sera sera) and, with it, the ability to ride the wave, no matter how gnarly it gets.