Give me a drumroll please, and then hold onto your hat!
I am quickly heading toward 50 and I am looking forward to it.
No, you don’t need to go clean your glasses. I really am looking forward to turning 50 in 2 years.
And no, I haven’t lost my mind. Well, I’m sure there are some folks who might disagree, but for other reasons.
Let me explain. To be honest, I have been dreading turning 50 for a few years now. I think Mr. McDread began twining his creepy fingers into my brain around the time I turned 45 and I remembered how much I had hated turning 40. I was downright depressed about it. So depressed in fact that my friend who planned a surprise party for me told me after the party that she had nearly cancelled it because she thought that I would hate it, and hate her for planning such a thing. I don’t know why I hated it so much at the time, but I have done a lot of pondering about that for the past couple of weeks.
I have never been very sure of myself or of my capabilities and talents. I look back on my teen years with complete and utter horror and wouldn’t take money to relive them. College was better. My 20s were even better, yet I was still so unsure of myself in so many ways. I was trying to figure out how to be a good wife while trying to make my way in the working world. I was struggling to become a mom. I had 4 miscarriages in my 20’s. I had moved 10 hours away from my family and was trying to fit into Tony’s family and make them my own. So while they were good years, they were still filled with so much insecurity.
The best decade of my life so far was hands down my 30s. When I was in my 30s, I was a stay at home mom raising the little beings who called me mom and loving every minute of it. Well, maybe not every single minute, especially those that involved trips to the ER and weeks being cooped up in the house in the winter with sick kids. I didn’t really love potty training either. But I loved everything else. I loved snuggling up on the couch with my children on my lap and reading to them. I loved crawling around on the floor playing cars and Barbies and doing floor puzzles. I loved it when Justin would crawl into bed and curl his sweet little boy self next to me every morning to watch Scooby Doo. I loved coloring in coloring books and teaching them to write their names and playing game after game of Candyland and going to the park and the zoo and for walks around the neighborhood pushing a stroller. I loved tucking them in at night and saying “sweet dreams” as they wrapped their arms around my neck and said “I love you mommy!” I loved it all. I don’t remember ever wishing away their childhood. I was never one to say “God, I can’t wait until my kids are grown!” I was never a mom who wanted to work in order to have “adult interaction.” I truly enjoyed being a stay at home mom and was so thankful every day that I was able to be one. In my 30’s, I think I was the most content I have ever been. We didn’t have many financial worries back then. Life was oh so sweet and good. Not just good. Very good.
Then, I turned 40. My kids were older. The year I turned 40, I started working at Share. Saying I had a hard time adjusting to being a working mom is an understatement. Even though I was only working part time, after being a stay at home mom for 13 years, it was a challenging adjustment. Those first few years, I spent so much time feeling like Gumby, stretched in too many different directions. On the one hand, I loved my job, and on the other, I felt as if I wasn’t a good enough mother any more. There were times when playing with the kids and taking them on outings felt more of a burden than the fun it once had been. Where once I would stop whatever I was doing and play or read if one of the kids asked, I now found myself saying way too often, “I can’t, I need to get the laundry/vacuuming/dusting/etc done.” And I feel so guilty about that. My house isn’t as neat and tidy and clean as I like it to be, and projects fall by the wayside. For the first time in my life, I started buying instant mashed potatoes and canned spaghetti sauce. I know it sounds silly, but for a long time, it really bothered me. It still does at times.
I know I have accomplished a great deal while I’ve been in my 40’s. I’ve done so many different things I never would have imagined I would (or could) do. Some of the people I have met through my job have encouraged, supported and cared about me in ways that no one ever has before. Because of them, I have more confidence in myself than I ever have, yet in other ways, I feel like I did as the insecure teenager I was in high school.
Which leads me to the real point of this post…why I am looking forward to turning 50 and the person who inspired me to turn my thinking around.
A couple of weeks ago, I was having a spectacularly bad day. The reasons why don’t matter, but there were many. I was at work, struggling to get through the day without having a meltdown. I was working downstairs rather than in my own office because I was doing a bunch of different things for my boss, and rather than continually running up and down the steps, I just took my laptop down there to work. It is getting close to Angel Ball time, so now and then, gals from the committee stop in. I love those days…they were some of the first people I met through Share back when I was still a volunteer, and it is always a bright spot in our day when they drop by. In the beginning, I was very intimidated by them; I felt as if they were way out of my league…pretty much all of them are doctor’s wives, they dress to the 9’s, have large beautiful homes, throw fabulous parties, sent their children to the top private schools in St. Louis…you get the picture. However, I quickly learned that they are just like anyone else, they just have more money. None of them have ever treated me as “beneath” them as I imagined they would when I first met them.
Anyway, on this particular day, Francois stopped in. Francois is French, is jus the sweetest person and we all love her. And she loves us and Share just as much. She is a cute and spunky, and I have often hoped that I am that cute and full of life as I get older.
I don’t think she was expecting to have the conversation we had on that day. She sat down at the table with Cathi and I and innocently asked me how I was, how are the kids, etc. Like I already said, it was a bad bad bad day. I don’t even remember exactly how I answered that question, but Cathi ended up stepping in and told her I was having some “challenges” in my life. What an understatement that was! I did end up telling Francois that it was just a rough time, I was having a hard time dealing with some hard issues with my kids while also trying to deal with my own issues…which led to a conversation about menopausal/hormonal issues, how much it sucks, and how much I am so ready to be done with this phase of my life, but that I dread heading into my 50’s. She really seemed to listen, and to care, and then, she told me how awesome her life has been in her 50’s. Better than ever, she said. She said that in her 50’s, she has been more settled, more sure of herself, and her life has been great. She doesn’t care what people think of her anymore, and she is truly happy and content for maybe the first time in her life.
While lately, I have been feeling as my life is going downhill fast, hearing her say that not only made my day, but it made me feel hopeful for the first time in a long time that things will get better. It made me think that maybe the best years of my life aren’t behind me as I have often been thinking, but rather ahead of me. Francois really inspired me that day…inspired me to not only do some reflecting on my life so far, but she also has inspired me to look forward to the next phase. I’ve talked to her several times since then, and each time I do, the first thing she asks is, “How are you? Are things better?” Her care and concern come through loud and clear and means so much to me. I have thought so often over the past couple of weeks how I wish I had many people like her in my life.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to a birthday party for my boss who recently turned 60. Francois was there, and I had to get a picture with her.
Can you believe this woman is almost 60? I can only dream of being that adorable when I am almost 60! And yes, I know I look like an Amazon woman next to her, but in my defense, she is about 5 foot zero and probably doesn't weigh 100 pounds.
It used to bother me when people said I was “cute.” I always thought I would rather be described with words such as “lovely,” or “elegant,” or “beautiful.” I always thought of “cute” as the way you would describe a little kid or a puppy or a sweater, not an adult woman. But, now that I am heading towards 50, I honestly think that there is no better compliment someone could say to me than “you are so cute!” On that same note, couple of weeks ago, one of my coworkers told me I’d changed a lot in the past couple of years, that she never realized how “feisty” I can be. I can think of nothing I’d rather be than a “feisty, cute” 50 year old. And I thank Francois for turning my thinking around.
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