39

“So, old people keep on having birthdays?  Seriously?”

That is the question that my loving four year old threw at me this morning.  That boy.  His timing is just perfect.  At 39 that could sting a bit,  but I have decided that with forty breathing down my neck – old is relative.  On my 29th birthday I went and got my hair all chopped off  thinking short and spiky hair would keep me looking young.  For 39 I have decided to go a different way.

My girls set up a “spa” in their bedroom for me today.  They drug in our comfy chair, had a bowl of hot water and marbles waiting for my feet and a display of nail polish ready.  I happened upon them in the kitchen pulling out honey and a ripe banana that they were fix’n to use as a homemade face mask.  These girls.  They know how to be sweet, in very creative ways, to their momma.

I think it was as I was trying to hide my giggles at the thought of being smeared down with honey by my seven year old that I made the decision about 39.  It is going to be the best year ever.  As Little Monkey smeared cream into my face she gently told me, “Mom, if you don’t scrunch your forehead you might not notice those wrinkles.”

It’s unavoidable – isn’t it?  We get old.

My grandma, one of my most favorite people in the whole wide world, once told me that the beauty of getting old is that you stop caring about some things and think about what is important.  Now, the whole story.  She was passing on this bit of wisdom to me as she ate Cheetos out of the bag using a toothpick (so her fingers wouldn’t get cheesy)!

The wisdom stands true.

For 39 I want to care about what is important.  No crazy hair cuts for me this year.  Instead, I am going to be crazy about the important things.  It started with letting my girls smear goo on my face.  Not sure where it will go from here, but I am looking forward to seeing where JC will take it.

Yes, dear son, old people keep having birthdays.   Here’s to another year….the best yet.