Forty Shades of Gray...

I'm not sure how this happened.

I'm pretty sure that I was just twenty (and dating losers). It seems like only yesterday that I was twenty-five and getting married (when you find one whose not a loser, you have to grab him). It wasn't long ago at all that I was twenty-eight and buying a house. And it seems about impossible that it's been almost eight years since I was thirty-two and having our first baby.

That's what did it. The babies. Oh sure, time flew before that, but not like it has since having kids. I mean, excuse me, my thirties, but where exactly did you go?

Are you still back there, somewhere, under the diapers? Or the wipes? Or the onesies with identical  poop stains on the back? Or did you disappear completely, under the mountains of laundry, and the sippy cups, and the shoes?

The shoes. If someone had told me ten years ago that my thirties would be all about shoes, I would have pictured myself as a character on Sex and the City. In actuality, my thirties were a cross between A Baby Story, What Not to Wear (you know your standards are low when you settle for anything that doesn't have spit up or poop stains), and Hoarders--the Toddler Years. And the reality is, I will never wear those Sex and the City shoes because, thanks to my three beautiful children, I now have flat feet that have somehow grown to a size ten. With callouses. And bunions.

OK, fine. I can't really blame the kids for the bunions. I read all about what causes them. I thought maybe they were due to pregnancy. Or tight shoes after pregnancy. Or too many nights pacing the floors with a crying baby.

But no. Apparently, I have bunions because I'm turning forty.

As it turns our, forty is giving me other things, too. Like wrinkles, and gray hair, and insomnia.

Thanks, Forty. Your generosity is more than I could have ever imagined.

I've heard people say that they've found themselves at forty. I guess there's some truth in that. As I approached forty, I found myself staring into the refrigerator, looking for my car keys. I found myself staring in the mirror, wondering how those ended up there, when they used to be up there. I found myself buying a lot more things in the drugstore with "repair" in the name.

And then today, I found myself thinking what a gift it is, this turning forty thing.

So things are sagging. And wrinkling, And turning gray.

I've earned it all.

Thirties, I don't know where you went. And I'd be lying if I said I won't miss you just a little. We were good together, you and I. But hopefully, I'm just a little bit smarter now. A little bit wiser. And a lot more aware of what really matters.

Family, Friendship, Joy, Love, Laughter.

I don't know what else you'll bring me, Forty. But I know that the greatest gift is being here to receive it.

So just bring it.