Experience under the belt

Today is a typical day. Wake up, get the kids ready for preschool, take them to school, spend the "free-time" while they are at school, running errands and cleaning house, then pick them up, etc. etc.  It is pretty typical except for the fact that today is my birthday and it is also the day of my great-grandmother's funeral. I am not at the funeral, but my thoughts are with loved ones who are.  Subsequently: I am happy. I am sad.  I am grateful. I am reserved. I want to sing. I want to cry.  I want to accomplish everything on my to-do list.  I want to sit on the swing outside and just listen to the birds sing.  Truthfully, I really don't know how I feel or what I want to do, but it is my birthday, and I've always loved celebrating birthdays, whether it be mine or someone elses, so I promise to make this a day of memories, not just for me but for my loved ones.

It so happens that among the many, many happy thoughts and wishes posted on my Facebook wall this morning, was one from a long-time friend who posted: "Happy Birthday! How does it feel to be 21 again with 20 years of experience under your belt? Hope you have a great day." 

Of course, the same friend who inspired this post later wrote, " I like it. Very cheerful idea for a person that is as old as you are (hehehe)!"  Yeah. OK.

So, how does it feel to have 20 years of experience under my belt?  I started thinking about it and it really stirred some honest thoughts and reflections so many, in fact, that I wanted to write some of them down, so that, perhaps, when my kids are 21, they can see that life can be so much more than what you think you know at the time, more than who you know at any given point in time, and certainly less than any given problem you may be experiencing at the time. 

20 years ago, I thought that turning 21 was going to given me the social freedom to have a beer or mixed drink wherever, whenever and with whoever I wanted.  At 41, I'd trade a single glass of wine or a premium beer for a keg of cheap beer, and I'd choose an intimate conversation with a few close friends over a smoke-filled bar anyday.

At 21, I was naive enough to think that by choosing to vote as an Independent, there was enough "rational" thought in the selection process by everyday folks, that the truly worthy candidates would emerge to lead our country to greatness.  At 41, I still believe we live in the greatest country in the world, but I am saddened by special interest groups and the appearance that only the richest and most power-driven seem to rise to the top and be supported by our electoral system. 

At 21, I struggled with religious dogmas and feelings of shame for not believing everything that churches taught me I should be.  I would never have guessed that I would eventually discover that my spirituality would evolve and allow me to find peace in everyday practices and thoughts or that I could claim my own religious freedom and still be a member of a church.

At 21, I dreaded the thought of staying home alone on a Friday or Saturday night.  At 41, it sounds like heaven.

At 21, I thought I was fat, that I needed to lose 20 pounds to be attractive and to feel good.  At 41, I laugh at that and wish I would I could weigh and appreicate what I did at 21.

At 21, purchasing a cute little sports car was the goal.  At 41, having the mini-van paid off is the goal.

At 21, I thought that menstrual cramps were bad.  At 41, I've known the physical pain of arthritis, tendonitis, plantar facsiitis, and a host of other "itis-es."  I also now know that an angry gallbladder or late-life of case of fifh disease can make bloating and mood swings seem like a cake walk.

At 21, I could and usually did stop by my grandparent's house on a whim just to say "hi". At 41 I cherish the memories with them and hope that I can somehow convey to my children how special they were to me.

At 21 I would have never believed that I would get more excitement out of a new cooktop stove than a new outfit.

At 21, I thought 41 seemed really, really old.  At 41, having recently celebrated my great-grandmother's 100th birthday with her, and now on the day of her funeral, 41 seems really, really young. 

At 21, I couldn't imagine that the man I would fall in love with would face throat cancer the year of our engagement.  At 41 we celebrate his 13th year of being cancer-free.

At 21, I thought that when the time came to have children, it would be easy.  At 41, my twins have just turned 4 and not a day goes by that I don't realize what miracles they are.  Not only can getting pregnant be difficult, but sometimes staying pregnant can be just as challenging.

At 21, I thought I'd have a successful, high-power career affording me a luxurious lifestyle.  At 41, I feel successful when I can manage to keep the house clean for more than 24 hours and I claim success when a good coupon and a great sale combined together result in a bargain.

At 21, it would have been impossible to convince me that some of my closest friends at the time would be those I no longer talk to or have a connection with. At 41 I remain grateful for friendships forged during high school and college, while also cherishing newer ones that have resulted over the years. 

At 21, I loved my parents, respected them but thought they were over-protective.  At 41, I am trying to teach my children to love others and be respectful while not being too overprotective.

So here I am, pretty far into April 19, 2012.  It's still a typical day, well except for the part where I actually got to go out to lunch with my husband and have a beer in the middle of the day.   The kids are now outside playing with their dad.  The timer is going off in the kitchen, which means it's Ayden's turn to ride the favorite tricycle, and Amelia's turn to get off.  The house is still a wreck, even though I'm expecting company in just three hours.  And as I steal away a few more minutes to finish writing down these random thoughts, all I can think about is how blessed I am. 

I really don't think that 20 years ago, I had the peace of mind to be thankful for such simple things - a grown-up drink with my lunch, a few hours to clean the house in quiet because the kids are being watched outside by their daddy, friends who care to enough to take time from their day to wish me a happy birthday, sipping a good glass of sangria or eating my favorite cake with friends. and the list goes on.  I admit, it isn't quite the life I imagined at 21.  But at 41, in many ways, it's better.