39, plus shipping and handling


My mom used to have a mug that said ‘29 and holding’ and then when she was over 40, she got a mug that said ‘39 and holding’. I prefer to consider it more like ’39, plus shipping and handling’.

That’s where I am in life. In that 40-ish range.

I look at my kids and can’t help but do calculations of where they will be in 10 years and where I’ll be. It’s natural to wish I was younger, but the reality is, I just didn’t meet the right person until I was almost 30. I still don’t understand how we didn’t meet until then, because our families had mutual friends and our fathers are from the same region of Italy. And we both attended Humber College at the exact same time.

But it wasn’t meant to be. I was meant to live my life and not meet him until the winter before turning 30. And the rest, as they say, is history.

But as I get another year older, I do wish I had more time. I wish D and I had more time alone together before having kids. And I wish I had the kids earlier so maybe I could have another one.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my life. I love my husband and my family. I wouldn’t change it for anything. We are in the sweet spot, where the kids are at the age where we can do so much with them, and they are fun and challenging and amazing.

I am afraid that 40-ish brings new things. Unwanted things.

The M-word is close. Menopause is around the corner and I’m not looking forward to all that it entails.

I can feel that I don’t recover as quickly as I used to, even from just a late night. My feet issues are still not resolved. (quick update, I am 7.5 weeks into a 10 week run with my air cast, and since I’m not a spring chicken anymore, it’s causing back, knee and major hip pain.) I know I need to take better care of myself so I can be there longer for my girls. I’m not as young of a mom as my mom was, and I want to be there to see all important moments in my girls’ lives.

It’s just sometimes that 40-ish number is overwhelming sometimes. For the most part, I push past it. I ignore it and just tell people (and myself) I’m 39. Even on the days I feel like I’m 79. I’m not going to lie, sometimes I even forget how old I am. Forty is the new thirty, right?!

I am grateful to get older, I wouldn’t go back for anything, even if I do imagine the what-if’s sometimes; I am secure in who I am and my place in life. I love my kids and my husband and am working to solve the health glitches in my life in order to live the next half of my life.

I think it is good to have a moment to reflect. Accept the challenges presented to you, and grow stronger as you overcome them. And whatever your price tag, remember that life is priceless!


Do you ever lie about your age? Be honest!

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