I woke up on my birthday to lovely messages on Facebook to ring in this tumultuous period of my life. I could not, however, answer anyone's messages right away because, although I managed to stay up to ring in the new year, I went to bed at about 12:03. While turning 30 was a year's worth of partying and celebrating growing old all together, 40 is about getting as much sleep as possible before the little people I was allowed to make jump on me and demand to be fed breakfast.
Sometime during the 30's, I became “Madame.” I stopped getting carded when buying drinks in the US, unless I am with my little sister and even then, they just do it to be polite. I know the scam, I used to be a waitress. Want a big tip? - Card the old lady. My appearance has seriously degraded, but mostly because I don't give a shit. Oh, so the other moms at school tell me I look tired? Who freakin' cares? What am I dressing up for? Pushing them out of the car? Not that there are a lot of hot young men to impress. I have looked. I have seen a mom drop her kids off in pj's and bunny slippers. I am not that bad. I put on pants most days. I am also between hairstyles so on a good day, I look like Gary Busey's mug shot. Some of you will deny it and say that I look just fine, but for those of you who haven't seen me in a while, my Facebook profile is not exactly recent. I think the one that is currently up is from my wedding. It was just before my 24th birthday. Who does have an “honest” profile picture up there anyway. I haven't exactly seen a lot of bikini photos on there. “And she used to have such a pretty face...”
Am I over-exaggerating? It's just a number right? I have younger friends and older friends (mostly older – suckahs!) Life goes on. My life will not implode this year, will it? I think I just expected this one to be a big deal. Five years ago, I told my husband that right now, at this very minute, I would be hanging out in New Zealand. If not this year, then when? Are there any chances left? I still want to travel. I got shit to do and see. I still want to keep running at my turtle pace as long as my chubby legs can move. I still want to find that magical cure for the stretch marks covering 70% of my body from building little people. Sure, I can learn to love myself the way I am, but those bastards can go!
I do not want my kids to see this old sad woman lying in a puddle of self-pity. That cranky bitch needs to get a grip.
So, who is posting the first bikini photo?