I’ll admit i had a hard time turning 50. Birthdays? What are those? Just a time to get together and a good excuse to eat cake without guilt. I didn’t mind turning 20, 30, 40 felt like a holiday, a freedom from 30’s (those were hard years) but 50?!? Seriously, that is a big number and what does it even mean? Am I too old for skinny pants? Am I too old to go to the trampoline park with my kids (who aren’t really kids anymore). Am I old enough that I can wear bling without my son telling me I should move to Tooele? At what age can wear what we want? Tierra’s and cupcake dresses? Hmm, I think that ship sailed and I wasn’t on board, unfortunately.
But 50, that was a hard pill to swallow. I don’t feel any different than I did 20 years ago. In fact, I feel better. I have more stamina, more energy, and more passion for life. I don’t want to get old. That’s all. I love life, I want to drink from it deeply forever, I don’t want to get senile (more than I already am). I want to travel and put in 18 hour days and never slow down. I want to have energy for my grandkids; I just don’t want to be some old lady that they can’t relate to. I feel bad for Mitch. When Mariah and Taylor were teenagers we were in our 30’s and now Mitch has an old mom. I never saw it coming. No one warned me that I would go to bed in my 30’s and wake up 50. That’s how it feels. I don’t recognize the person in the mirror, that can’t possible be me; I am young. I feel young. It is weird.
|Luke sitting on my stomach|
In spite of all my misgivings, I had a terrific birth-day or birth-week. I flew to DC and spent 30 perfect hours with my sister, Cristy (we saw the ballet Dracula), I spend my birthday at the zoo with Toby, Luke, Mariah, Rob and crew, Taylor threw me amazing party, Toby got me a slab-roller for pottery, friends, and family were amazing. I felt loved and supported and I did eat cake, lots of delicious cake (thanks Margaret). I’ll take that fuel and more forward for hopefully 50 more! Thank you wonderful people, I love you all!!