Spinning Yellow

Four Oh My

I am officially 40 years old today.  No longer thirty something.  Not in the 35 - 39 demographic.  I have to scroll down quite a ways to get to my birth year, 1968. 

Turning 39 felt liberating.  Time to take on the world!  Do things I've never done!  No time to waste!

It has been a long year.

I feel tired.  More realistic and less idealistic than a year ago.

I've enjoyed getting older.  I like the wisdom.  The earned self-confidence.  The insight.

Something else, too, a sense of calm.  A softening. 

Am I realizing that it isn't worth it to battle or am I giving up?  Is it both?

I've always felt strongly that people can be anything they want to be.  That it is never too late to pursue goals or chase a dream.  I still feel that way.

But it is tempered.  I will never be an Olympic athlete.  I probably won't be rich.  But I may still get another degree, start a business, be on Oprah.

I have a picture of my mom at 40 from a newspaper article.  It was a story about me and my trip to Egypt.  My mother looks so young and pretty.  At the time, I just thought of her as my mom, not as a woman I may grow up to resemble.  Did she feel old then?  It was the thick of her parenting days with me finishing elementary school and my brother heading off to college (and my sister still in between).

My life is 10 years behind hers at that point and yet I am the same age.  My oldest at 7, still younger than her youngest, me, at 11.  It would be several years later before she went back to work and then started her own school, her life's work, really, aside from being a mom and a grandmother.

I think I still have my life's work ahead of me, too.

Not to say that I am unhappy or dissatisfied with where I am.  I look around in amazement sometimes hearing the Talking Head's song, This is not my beautiful house, This is not my beautiful wife, How did I get here? I don't have any issue with not feeling like a grown-up, but I do wonder if I've been doing it right so far.  Am I missing something?  Living life fully?  Doing what matters?

I find myself pulling back lately.  Instead of wanting to accomplish all kinds of things, I stop and live more in the moment.  A new concept for me, really.  I think I am appreciating what I have instead of pushing ahead looking for what I don't have yet.

Maybe this is all there will ever be.  Same as it ever was. 

I won't stop pursuing new challenges, learning, expanding.  But if I'm never a size 6 again or I don't have any more kids, if I never have a perfect home or save the world, I will still be quite happy with my very full life as it is.

At 40 years old, I am good with that.

Except the Oprah part.  I'm not giving up that one.

And the Star-Dazzle Award Goes to ....

*** Fair warning that there is going to be some serious mommy bragging in this post.

I might have been complaining in my last post about the monotony of raising kids, but truth be told, I love being a mom.  And more specifically, I love being a mom of two kids.  These two kids.  Two very different children.  They can be quite frustrating and they both have their individual issues.  Well, Scott much more so than Jane, but she's been having some tantrums (and will not, for the love of God, go to sleep tonight) and being a girl does present some inherent challenges.

So, while I have been somewhat discontented lately, this past weekend was really what all parents look forward to.  The good stuff.  The things that our parents think of when they say, "when you kids were young was the best time of our lives."  The things that we look back on as kids and feel proud of.  The stuff of happy memories.

I should now turn the award ceremony over to someone else, not their mom, who might be able to be a little more objective, but it is my blog, so you get my proud momma version:

The Tiny Dancer

First up for her Star-Dazzle award is Jane.  Jane performed in her first dance recital this weekend.  She went to dance lessons all year for this and mom and dad forked over huge amounts of money.  Delilah covered it well in her post yesterday.

I was a bit concerned about the recital after Jane turned into a diva-in-training before the rehearsal, demanding that her hair be done a certain way and that she wear her favorite bright purple, shimmering lipstick.  But she was all business (show business that is) for the recital.  She was prepared and she ate it up like any small girl who gets to dress-up in a tutu should.  She even donned her purple, polka dot sunglasses while strutting into the building as if she was entering her dressing room; posing for photos and asking for her make-up to be reapplied.

As I dropped her off in the cafeteria, which was the holding room for all the performers, she smiled brightly and blew me a kiss.  "Have fun, sweetie!"  "I will mom!" 

My mind raced:  Is she nervous?  Will she cry?  Be overwhelmed?  Pee her pants?  Isn't this developmentally inappropriate to ask a just turned 4 year old child to get up on a high school auditorium stage in front of a packed audience?

But I forgot all of that as the curtain opened and group after group of girls, from 3 year olds all the way up to high school age, danced their numbers.  Many of the children I knew.  And I really started to cry when I saw Kate, clearly enjoying herself doing her routine just like the other girls, as happy as can be.

These kids were super stars!  What a great chance to have the memory of performing in front of an audience.  And Jane?  She was simply perfect.  As cute as a button, following along, twirling in her elaborate get-up.  Smiling, waving and blowing kisses to her fans.  I wanted to run right up on stage with her and hug her to pieces.

I'll be signing her up for next year, when she gets to wear tap shoes and make a lot of noise.  I can't wait.

The All Star Player

Second up, to share the award, is her brother, Scott.  Scott is finishing up his baseball season which completes his second rotation of soccer/basketball/baseball playing team sports.  Even though Scott takes these games very seriously, the idea is to get the children's feet wet in the world of sports.  Basketball this year was the first time that an official score was kept although the coaches still played down winning or losing trying to get the kids to learn how to play and have fun.

But for Scott it is about winning.  And this has been an issue as far as these junior leagues are concerned.  When the basketball league decided to have an all star game, Scott was sure he'd be selected to play, but he wasn't.  Not because he wasn't one of the better players but because it was his first year in the league and the coaches decided to have the older kids participate.

This made Scott's head explode.  The injustice!  Why should he bother to play?  When would he ever be recognized for his talent?

Well, the time has come because he was just offered a spot on the All Star baseball team!  And he gets to play with some of his best buddies from class.  His group.  The ones that he is now asking for play dates with.  My boy!  Is finding his group.  I might start crying again.

Scott has really struggled this spring with anxiety and OCD.  He can be volatile and downright sullen.  But this world of sports?  It is his thing.  His place.  He needs it and he deserves it.

There will be "scouts" there for the 8 year old travel team which he could be invited to play on next spring.  A real, competitive, every game matters type of opportunity.  I know many people think that that is not appropriate for his age.  But I defy them to see him in action and question whose motive it is to play.  He wants this and has been waiting. 

Is it any different than having your little girl perform in a recital?

Scott is the youngest member of his team and he is going to represent them in an All Star game.  He is thrilled.

Rising to the occasion

Scott was not happy about having to attend Jane's recital, but we felt that he should support his sister.  Earlier in the day as he was teasing her, I scolded him saying, "this is her one day, don't ruin it for her."  So, of course, he had to pout and be mad at me.  Matt and I exchanged glances thinking he better not make this moment about him.  It is always about him.  Typical first child.

But he sat through the whole recital without any complaints.  And when it was all over and Jane came off the stage she was so happy to see him there.  He gave her a big hug and congratulated her on her performance.   "Thanks, brother!" she beamed.

Can you see my heart bursting?

For a closing note, your proud momma MC would like to also share this little story:

Matt came home from work late today and was going to mow the lawn.  I had already planned to have dinner at my mom's and the kids were not expecting to see their dad until after they got home.  But he surprised them by coming over as they were eating.

Matt brought over his and Scott's baseball gloves and, in a teasing tone, asked Scott, "Now that you are a big shot All Star player, do you still have time to have a catch with your dad?"

Scott smiled and responded, "I'll always have time for you, Daddy.  Always."

That moment. 

These moments. 

The good stuff.

Let's Do the Time Warp Again

Lately I feel like my life is flying by at lightning speed.  2008 is practically half way done.  I am about to turn 40.  These children of mine are 7 and 4. 

I am in a tunnel with images whizzing by:

Me, in the house I bought on my own 10 years ago.
Scott as a baby, looking out the window.
Jane taking her first boat ride at the tender age of 4 months old.
Me, in my car, the one I bought back when I lived in DC, on my way home from NY with my teeny-tiny puppy.
Scott trying to ride a bike, arguing with Matt when he was 4.
Jane desperately trying to suck her thumb after she broke her wrist.
Me, as a child, playing with my neighbor.
Me, in high school, college, my first job out of school.
Me, traveling with my friend in Europe.
Me, with an old boyfriend.
Matt and I on our honeymoon.

I see backward and forward.  Snap shots captured in time.  A million small moments.  A lifetime already.  And yet I know I have so much more of my life to live.  Time is moving so quickly.  This must be what old people feel.  This sense of having experienced so much.  Of the treadmill gaining speed and you can barely hang on.  The years flying by.  Christmas then Summer in the blink of an eye.

And yet.

There is a certain Ground Hog Day quality to my life.  Here I am doing the laundry again.  Fixing up the morning medicines.  Putting out the toothbrushes.  Oh, Jane peed on the floor again?  Oh, Scott is complaining that his stomach hurts?  Matt shaking his head, we need to organizing things around here.  Another baseball game.  Another birthday party.

Yawn.

How is it possible to simultaneously feel like my life is speeding by and also be so bored by much of the day to day?

This time warp of days crawling by with dulling monotony and years piling up so fast I can't keep them straight?

Even as I write this, it sounds absurd.  My life is far from boring.  In fact, I often think that I need to figure out a way to make things slow down, to simplify, to, well, make things less chaotic.  Yet, even the unexpected has become predictable.  Am I just getting older and nothing surprises me anymore?  Is it that I need to shake things up a bit, break out of my routines?

I do know this:  The saying, "The days go by slowly but the years go by fast" has never felt more relevant than right now.