yep. i’m 40.

yesterday, it was my birthday.
i hung one more year on the line.
i should be depressed; my life’s a mess.
but i’m having a good time.”
paul simon

ok, so really wednesday was my birthday.

i no longer fear telling people my age. perhaps i should know better, but now that BC has told the world, including every child she knows at school, that mama is 40, well, to borrow from rhymin’ simon again, “aw, what the hell.” but my husband bought me a pearl necklace and earrings (note to self: better impale your formerly-pieced-but-now-closed-up ears); my personal trainer (AKA BC) “got” me resistance bands for my pilates workouts; jools sang happy birthday to me; my parents, inlaws, sibs, aunt, and dear pals sent cards, etc.; the great folks i work with gave me a little afternoon soiree, complete with chocolate-covered strawberries and liquid refreshments; and we bought a car. (a Prius. though that really wasn’t for me or for my birthday. it just happened coincidentally that day.) we also went to the cheesecake factory (BC’s choice), where mild manner jools helped me stick to my diet by becoming the antichrist in the middle of the restaurant and thus rendering me unable to truly eat a lot because i had to move him away from polite society before a riot broke out among cranky, overweight diners. (always look at the bright side of life. ::whistling::) and, i found a tenner on the sidewalk.

in short, i am loved and i am lucky for it.

some random things i want to remember:

jools trying to sing along to “who are you.” BS subsequently editing/bowdlerizing the damn song for fear that our son will be walking around shortly singing, “aw, who the fuck are you??”

BC and jools dancing around to “twist and crawl” with me in the family room.

jools screaming “bicycle!” into the phone and onto my parents’ answering machine. (he was imitating freddy mercury. i’m not making this up.)

jools doing a 360 in the air after not realizing he was running into the arm of the sofa. his dismount was perfect — he grazed his legos table and landed on his feet. i, of course, did what any sensible mother did — i screamed and made him cry.

BC’s parent/teacher conference, in which we learned that our heroine is a great student; is doing work a grade level higher in math (clearly these are not my genes at work); is extremely social (now there’s my genetic contribution!); and has decided that when she knows something already, she tells the teacher she doesn’t have to do it by saying (and i quote) “i know everything.” when the teacher asked her who told her that she knew everything, she replied, “my mommy told me that.”

i so did not, little girl.

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