On the eighth day of February 1976 Mums last baby was born… That was me.
If Mum’s world wasn’t crazy enough, I probably tipped it over the edge… I think I’m her ‘unique’ child… Kind of the same, but not like the others. How could I not be born with a hint of uniqueness, I was born on James Dean‘s birthday.
At midnight last night – in the blink of an eye – my uniqueness went from 39 to 40 years old… The real real grown up age…
When I was a little girl I thought forty was old. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really old. Someone – probably my mum – said one day, “You’re as old as you feel inside”… I thought the people I knew who were over 40 must have felt so old, because they looked it… in my little girl eyes.
Anyone over 12 was ancient in my little girl eyes. And them people over forty, no way could they feel like they were a little kid inside, that was just thinking silly.
So when I woke up this morning, I looked out the window and thought, “This is 40. I’ve made it to another decade of life. Whoah!”
Not only did I really make it to my twenties, but I kicked that one out of the ballpark and smashed out my thirties, and now I get to cruise through my forties too… To be perfectly honest, I have no fucking idea how the hell I made it through childhood – specifically teenagerhood – let alone making it to forty!
I must have been feeling forty this morning though, because I didn’t fight the fact I had another 20 minutes before the alarm went off. Instead of hoping my last 20 minutes would feel like a whole extra hour – I like to bullshit myself in the mornings like that – I got out of bed and commenced to breathe *fresh country air into my now 40 year old lungs.
My day went something like this…
- Gooood Morning sun! Every day that is a ‘big’ day, I take a photo of the sun coming over the front hill. That moment will never be had again, I photograph it.
- Checked the clock to see how long I had before children graced me with their presence for the day… I had 10 more minutes, enough time to scull down a cuppa…
- …Another fucking huntsman – it’s like a plague! – ON MY CUP!!!
- Get rid of the huntsman.
- Make and scull cuppa, taking meds as well because I get to feel all my female 40 years today – Thank you Universe you arsehole!
- Sneak into my room where husband is asleep, and make sure the fan is on while trying not to suffocate… Morning *man stench can down a horse.
- Wash up last nights dishes… Because the teenagers are awesome at doing their job…
- Make my bed before husband thinks about ‘laying down for a minute’ that turns into my bed not being made at all because I forget that I haven’t made it.
- Drive high school kids all the way to school, because I was late because I did their job for them – again – this morning.
- Get home from school drop-off, start school with the smallest OgreBoy… With another cuppa.
- Have a morning tea break and open presents from mum – two cards from mum because I’m awesome.
- Fall in love with tea light candle holder. Gaze at it every time I remember I have it, and think “Man my mum knows my taste so well“.
- Look at my Dyson I got myself for my birthday, wishing it wasn’t my actual birthday today so I could vacuum the floor – fucking weirdo 40 year old I am. Who the hell wants to vacuum on their birthday?!
- More school work. Talk the boy down over his maths freak out.
- Drink another cuppa.
- More school work.
- Arvo bus run. Sing at the top of my lungs on the way to the bus stop. Forget I’m singing at the top of my lungs as I pull up, and have my friend give me that “You are the worlds WORST singer EVER” look as I pull up next to her. I give her the “I don’t give a fuck” look, back.
- Laugh at myself.
- Drive home.
- Drive into town for dinner supplies… and to escape the kids for an hour.
- Big kids come to visit… Squeal like a teenager over the most awesome of presents. BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN BABY!!!! *fans face with hands*
- Dinner
- A cuppa, and blogging.
So far I think 40 is pretty much the same as 39, but with more age to it… and presents. Possibly more grey hair.. I can’t be sure because I forgot to count my grey hairs before I went to bed last night. And a double chin…
Smallest OgreBoy: MUM! You have a double chin.
Me: Yes I know, I’ve had it for ages.
Smallest OgreBoy: But it’s a REALLY BIG double chin.
Me: Thanks for that. On my 40th birthday.
I got a big double chin for my birthday too, apparently.
Forty, just like thirty nine, but with a double chin.
Peace out xo
P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMES DEAN! XO
* “Fresh country air” is code for “man stench”.
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