Happy Birthday!

Today is my birthday. I'm 39!

Yes, I used an exclamation point, and not a sad-face emoticon.

I may be a strange bird, but I've always looked forward to middle-age. My 35th birthday was a particularly happy occasion, as I could remember lying in bed as a pre-teen, fantasizing about how my life might be at 35.

Some people love their high school experience. They cry at graduation. Not me. High school was fine, but basically I was glad for it to be over. I looked forward to college. At college graduation, I was happy to have that degree, but I looked forward to "real life" afterward.

Little did I know it, but "real life" consisted of joyous moments that sometimes were preceded by painful lessons. First came a very negative relationship, which allowed me to discover that I had the fortitude to end the relationship after realizing the futility of it. My marriage to my husband, now going strong twelve years into it, was made all the more pleasurable after recovering from the previous dismal relationship. Then, after giving birth to a healthy and strong baby boy, my next two pregnancies resulted in a miscarriage followed by twins born three months prematurely. The joy of giving birth to two sweet little girls was mitigated by the fact that they had an extremely difficult beginning to their lives. Others in this situation understand the joy and sadness felt simultaneously. The worst night of all was the long drive to the hospital at 2:00 a.m., when we drove in heavy silence, holding hands, not knowing if both of our twins would be living when we arrived. Such was the dire circumstance of one of the twins following her second surgery at the age of two months. Remarkably, she survived and, after eleven surgeries and nine years, both twins are thriving today!

Despite this brief synopsis of challenging moments, I've had the good fortune to enjoy more moments that are full of fun, humor, amazement, and peace, than the above story tells.

So life is full of ups and downs. And they're much more elating and frightening than turning one year older.

39 is just a number. But it's my number. I have a great life--a funny, intelligent, adventurous husband who loves me; three amazing children; a warm home; and friends who care about me. I have everything I need. Gifts are not important on my birthday. All I ask for is a cake to share with my family. I'm glad to be the person I am, and I look forward to discovering the person I will become. My next years are bound to be even better than those that have passed.

On my birthday, I wish everyone a happy day!

Mowing (Perspective)

Him: What is now a novelty will become a chore.

Me: Who is now a boy will become a man.

Protection

As the thunder boomed overhead and the lightning seared the sky, the throbbing of the raindrops pelting the ground nearby advanced upon us. I woke and I knew she was frightened.

She never called out, but when I found her, she was huddled in a fetal position, clutching her pillow, a look of combined determination and fear on her face.

That look on her face justified why I went. As the look changed to relief when she saw me, neither of us said a word. I scooped her up in my arms and brought her to our bed. She found her place between her two protectors.

We lay together in a crowded state, her small but gangly body comfortably squeezed between us, her arm around my neck, as her breathing steadied. Although--or maybe because--we eschewed the family bed, these rare scenes are precious.

Most days, I help them on their journey to independence. But sometimes, all they need is protection from the storm.

Together

Do you ever go to the grocery store and see an older couple shopping together? Among all the moms shopping with their children, and even the singles picking up just a few items, are scattered couples of retirement-plus age. Often, they shop in silence, except for the occasional bickering over whether such-and-such is really necessary, or whether the price is too high for that item, or whether the store brand is just as good as the name brand.

When I see those couples, I always wonder why they shop together. Not that I don't think it's sweet in a way, but it's just not how my husband and I do things. We generally operate under a division-of-labor concept. With occasional exceptions, we just enjoy doing our own things. And for chores, it's more efficient this way.

We mixed things up a bit today, when my husband and I started seeing a personal trainer together. I loved it! It was so fun to work out together--something we've never done as a couple. Now, I still plan to go to the gym or play tennis either alone or with my girlfriends most of the week, and he'll do the same. But once a week, my husband and I have a standing appointment to work out together.

After twelve years of marriage and three children, I think I could get used to hanging out with my husband. Maybe you'll even see us in the grocery store together.

Boys and Girls

As a parent of one boy and twin girls, I love having my own little social microcosm unfolding before my eyes. Yes, of course I experienced childhood once already, but it's so very different experiencing it from the other side of the fence.

One year ago, my son (who was then 9) determined that he needed to know about sex. I mean, he wanted to know precisely what happens, who does what, how it happens, etc. (Of course, my husband was out of town when this thirst for knowledge occurred.) And on that particular day, when he just needed to know, he followed me around the house, hounding me with question after question. I gave him some answers--did the best I could--and then informed my husband that he should have "the talk" with my son when he returned from his trip. They had their talk (as I recall, Legos were used for illustrative purposes!) and my son's thirst was quenched.

The other day, during a rare morning when one of the twins (now 9) and I were alone together, she determined that she needed to know about love. For 30 minutes, she asked pointed question after pointed question about dating, love, engagement, marriage, divorce, children. So I answered every question she had until the issue was exhausted.

I don't know if this is truly a gender difference (as I suspect it is) or just a difference between my children (as it could be). But I find it incredible that my son and one of my daughters, at the same age, felt an urgent desire for knowledge about boy-girl relationships, yet each focused on a completely different facet of the relationship: physical vs emotional.

Not one question that my son asked had to do with liking, loving, dating, or building a life with a girl. And not one question that my daughter asked had to do with kissing, touching, or having sex with a boy. ("Ewwwww!" they would each think of the other's questions.)

We'll have many conversations about relationships in the coming years, and they'll eventually have their experiences, too, and every square inch of the territory will get covered. Thoroughly. Painfully. Joyfully. Repeatedly.

But I'll always remember how it started, at age 9. One boy, one girl. So very similar, yet so very different.

On His Own

Yesterday, we dropped off our son at camp.

He's 10.

He'll be gone for a week.

Ten years ago, he entered the world naked and needy. He depended on us for all of his needs: sustenance, nurturance, entertainment, and otherwise. Now he needs us when it suits him. Less than ten years from now, he'll need us just for the tuition. Otherwise, he'll be independent--living by himself or with friends, responsible for his own schedule, food, transportation, social life...

This week, he's trying out some of that independence. And he's not afraid of it. He embraces it. Always an engaging person, he's fun, friendly, enterprising, not afraid of much. He's not shy, but he can show restraint. He recognizes when he's presented with an opportunity to show what he can do, to experience a new adventure, to meet new people
-- and instead of ignoring it, he embraces that opportunity wholeheartedly.

When I was his age, I was not that brave. Come to think of it, when I was twice his age, I was not that brave.

He's in his "tween" stage, and he's very verbal, and he and I can both stubbornly lock horns at times. And because in many ways he's always been ahead of his years, sometimes I forget his true age. Sometimes I expect too much. But I'm also awed by the person he is--his confidence, his independence, his intelligence, his innate comfort with other people, his sense of adventure, his creativity, his ability to communicate with anyone, anytime. These qualities were present from the minute he was born. We could just tell he was different from us in many wonderful ways. He somehow took the qualities that he inherited from us and that were fused into him, and then tweaked them to create his own sense of self. It's amazing to see these lifelong qualities becoming more clearly defined as he ages. I've learned much from parenting him.

So now he's gone for a week, staying in a cabin in the woods with 3 friends and more strangers. (He'd be mortified, but to loosely quote from my daughters' Barbie movie, "strangers are just friends he hasn't met yet!") This week, he doesn't need us. Not even to help him organize his belongings and make up his bed. He insisted he could handle those tasks by himself and adamantly, but politely, refused help. So we did the only things we could do, and the only things he needed us to do: we kissed him, hugged him, wished him a great time, and waved good-bye.

It's strange to have my child gone, and not in the care of another relative. But this is what we've been working toward: the confidence to go his own way independently.

Have a great time, my son. I'll be here for you when you're ready to come home.