I used to think 40 was old, but now that I’m officially 40 I can say it isn’t old. We had a blast of a party with all of my family at the beach over the weekend and we’re all married (last brother is engaged and marries this summer) and breeding great little people who love to laugh as much as we do.
We told stories about our formative years, my rebellious years, former boyfriends, car trouble and awkward clutzy moments that have become family folklore.
I made a list of some milestones today: 17 years sober; 14 years married; 9 years a mother to Izzy; 3 years a mother to Mack; 2 years UM was published; almost 2 years from Katrina.
In Anna Quindlen’s recent Newsweek column she said that her children have done more than anything else to “excavate my humanity” and it is so true. My children touch my soul like nothing else and it truly has given me a glimpse of God’s unselfish love for us. A simple enjoyment in our very existence.
We drove home from the beach late on Monday night and I squished myself between Izzy and Mack’s carseat in the back. Chris played songs from the 80s that we still know all too well. What is more fun than singing “Oh Mickey you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind! Hey Mickey, Hey Mickey!” at the top of your lungs? Chris laughs because he is the only one that can sing on key. It was a great birthday.
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