fortysomething

When I turned 40 I thought I had figured some things out. I thought well, now I've totally got this. I know how to say no and set boundaries, I've had the babies and I'm over that stage, I got a couple jobs and became a working mother, I didn't think twice about panty lines or a little extra  weight, I felt accomplished because I was still in love with my husband. I mean I really had my shit together and I was ready for the 40s and beyond. Or so I thought.

I've been 43 for about a month and I can tell you, I'm way less certain about everything.

The 40s aren't exactly like I thought they would be. I'm still wildly happy in my marriage and still have a couple jobs to manage. But this parenting older kids worry coupled with perimenopausal hormone surges and anxiety, um it is rough.

This is how I felt right before I turned 39. This picture was taken at my first Listen To Your Mother show in Detroit.

This is me at this year's Listen To Your Mother show in Detroit. Um, yeah..pictures are worth a thousand words. This is how I feel about 43 and beyond.

It's weird because I feel stronger in some ways and more accepting of myself and others now that I'm in my mid-forties. But I also feel so worried about everything---my kids driving, putting too much pressure on my kids, not putting enough pressure on my kids, drugs!, people I love getting sick, me getting sick, football, not enough money, college expenses, global warming, war, my kids driving, drugs!....and the worry loop continues. I mean I'm not worrying about these things every minute, but the worries get so big with big kids and it can be overwhelming.

I'm still a positive person, but also a worry person. I'm more vulnerable and I'm trying to find strength in that instead of just resentment and fear. I guess the older I'm getting the more I appreciate everything and I'm so grateful for my life, and I'm afraid of losing it (it being all the good stuff).

That's my truth right now. This is my fortysomething. This is me at 43.

              ***************

People may accuse me of being a little kooky and a worrywort or an oversharer and a lot of other things. BUT they can never accuse me of being a poker face or unemotional. I own it. I'm cool with it. I actually find it pretty funny.

This made me laugh...

I'm Over It

I have a tendency to over-complicate, over-dramatize, over-analyze, over-commit... In fact, you might say I'm really good at those things.  While part of me is proud I am really good at something, I am also frustrated.  It gets old being the one that worries, gets too busy and feels crazy and tired.  I'm over it.

not my quuote, but a good one

Friday night I woke up in the middle of the night full of anxiety.  I worried about how I shouldn't have signed up to run a certain volunteer project which led to worry about how I forgot to RSVP to one of the kids' friends' birthday parties which led to worry about how much I ate that day which led to worry that I was losing so much sleep worrying and that I would be exhausted the next day and eat more. Ugh.

That's what I like to call Sunday night thinking on a Friday night.  That kind of anxiety should probably never happen, but if it does it should NEVER happen going into the weekend.  Duh.  Rookie mistake.  I shook it off and went back to sleep.

Saturday I woke up and told Tim about my night.  He always seems shocked about the way my brain works.  I'm married to a man who says he's never been depressed and can't wrap his head around the whole idea of it.  When he listens to my over-complication, over-worry, over-etc., he looks both fascinated and fearful.  

One night last week, he came home and asked if I'd ever heard that new song from Pink and the guy from FUN.  I was surprised because Tim usually only listens to sports talk radio. I knew the song he was talking about.  "It is so us," he said.

The song where Pink is all over-thinking and dark and over-complicated and the dude from FUN is all confused and like why are you so upset...."it's all in your mind."  Tim and I listened to the song together and I was like, um, yeah, it's great....it's our song.  Our song where I'm the screwed up, crazy, tired one.  Waaaaa.



Whatever.  I'm over it.  I can learn to love again Pink.  And it is a good song.  I'll simplify.  I won't sweat the small stuff.  Although that phrase makes me think of this guy I worked with that was really into those books "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" when they first came out and he died suddenly.  Oh god, it isn't working, I'm over-thinking.  Maybe I'll take cues from kids on making it simple.  

This past weekend, watching my kids and their simple pleasures was pretty inspiring.  

Tim bought them marbles at the grocery store and they acted like it was the greatest toy ever.  Yeah, all their friends have iPod Touches, but they have marbles and they love it.

The sun was shining for the first time in what seems like 877 days and the kids ran out to play.  They acted like it was the first day of summer vacation or that we told them we were going to Disney World. Simple happiness.

They get worried or scared and they have each other.  It's simple, it is.

Sanitize-How to Shield Your Kids and Not Go Crazy

Sponsored Post

Eleven years ago right about now, I became a little bit of a worrier.  That is when it all changed.  Eleven years ago right about now, I was pregnant with my first child.  I worried about the foods I ate, the amount of weight I gained.  I worried about second hand smoke from the person smoking across the street.  I worried about standing too close to the microwave.


That's what a good parent does right? Worry.


Over the last 11 years, I've been very lucky.  I've had four healthy children.  Sure, there were ear infections, rashes, a minor hernia surgery, Swine Flu scares and even a diagnosis of Celiac disease.  But over the years, I relaxed and rolled with the punches, er, germs.


That's what a good grown-up parent does right? Worry less.


I was maturing.  I was parenting.


But then JT went and broke his arm.  I felt like a newbie parent all over again.  The anxiety, the worry came back.  I joke that I wish I could wrap him in bubble wrap, but the thing is, I 'm not joking.

"Oh it's just the beginning," the ER nurse told me as she smiled knowingly and put the splint on JT's broken little arm.  "I had three boys. Broken bones, stitches, you name it."


I nodded, speechless.


"It's not just boys!," another nurse lauged along with her friend.  "I had two daughters who were just as reckless and accident prone.  It's kids."


They laughed together and looked at me with a "just wait, honey, you are in for it" look.


All these looks.  All these worries.  I wanted to grab my baby boy and the bubble wrap and head for the hills.  But even the hills are dangerous.  Ugh.


After a couple weeks with JT in a cast, I've had a little time to analyze my situation.  Those nurses are right, I'm in for it.  But that doesn't mean I am doomed to a life of paralyzing fear and anxiety. 


Here's a few tips I figured out on how to shield the kids and not go crazy:


Be prepared, emotionally.  
-I was so NOT prepared for something bad to happen.  I am not suggesting you walk around waiting for the sky to fall Henny Penny style.  But know that bad things can happen to good, cute little people and leave the bitterness at the door.  Accept that you are strong enough to deal with life "stuff" and don't be afraid to ask friends and family for help.


Be prepared, with a kit.
-Have a first aid kit in your house, in your car. Sounds simple, but lots of people (um, me) don't have a first aid kit at the ready.  


Have a plan.
-We fill out emergency cards all over the place for our children, but what about at home?  Who is your emergency contact?  For example, who is your someone that will watch your other kids while you go to the hospital in an emergency? 


Teach them well.
-Being the mother of an almost 11-year-old, I realize how important it is to teach kids to be responsible for themselves, but also to help out.  When JT broke his arm, the older kids and I were a team.  Peyton grabbed the baby and helped ease my mind.  Lucy talked to JT throughout the ride to the hospital helping him from going into shock. 


Sanitize.
-Always, I mean always, carry hand sanitizer in your purse.  Not only will it zap any scary germs lurking, um everywhere, it will give you a sense of control and ease anxiety and worry.  For example, I could not fix JT's arm, but I could sanitize the hell out of our hands in the ER waiting room.  You better believe that helped.


Bottom line, we simply cannot shield our kids from every bad thing that will happen to them, physically or emotionally.  But worry doesn't help.  Being prepared and taking control of what we can, even it is only sanitizer, does in deed make a difference.

As a member of Clever Girls Collective, I was selected to participate in the Healthy Habits program sponsored by Kimberly-Clark and Colgate-Palmolive. The content and opinions expressed here are all my own. #healthyhabits #cgc
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The Worry Gene and What I Know For Sure (this week)

Yesterday the kids and I went to a playground for the first time since JT fell and broke his arm.  I was a little more nervous than usual, especially because JT was climbing to the top of everything, swinging across the bars with his one good arm and making a million risky moves.


That's good right?  He's not traumatized, not crippled with fear or worry.  Maybe he lucked out and didn't get what I thought was the dominant worry gene that keeps getting passed down generation after generation in my family.


Maybe the streak has been broken. Halle-f&#*ing-euljah!

Because really worry is stooopid. Life is short and it goes fast, this I know for sure.


Here's what else I know for sure (this week):


The Tooth Fairy that comes to our house is named Adam. JT lost his first baby tooth and Peyton lost his last baby tooth this past week. 

I cried over both milestones.  Lucy helped JT put his tiny tooth under his pillow the night he lost it.  Unbeknownst to us, she wrote a little note and included it with the wee little baby tooth.

"Dear tooth fairy, What is your name?"  she wrote.  In the corner you can see where the fairy wrote "Adam."

My uber creative husband found the note and decided the tooth fairy's name is Adam.  What the hell?  I was so confused.  "A guy? You think the tooth fairy is a guy?  And why Adam?"  No offense to all the Adams out there, it just isn't very fairy like.  I would have at least gone with a more exotic name like Eduardo or Augustine.  Right? Augustine the Tooth Fairy.  But nope, our fairy is and will always be Adam.  And by the way, Lucy and JT loved that Adam revealed his name.


I want to buy cold cuts because of this commercial.  It's overplayed, but I don't care, I laugh out loud EVERY TIME I watch it.  Love it.

I'm more in love with Amy Poehler than ever.   She and a few of her friends started a YouTube Channel called Smartgirls.  It is full of videos to help empower and inspire girls.  If you know a young girl (tween age), direct her to this channel.  I sooooo wish I had something like this when I was younger.  See? The Internet isn't all scary, horrible stuff for our kids.  
Check out this clip from an Ask Amy segment where she answers viewers questions about makeup.  You will love her too, I know it.

The Dark Knight Rises looks f-ing unbelievable.  Yup, I'm a fan.  This trailer for the new movie is amazing and it features my beloved Pittsburgh.  Can't wait to see it, we might even get a sitter and go to an IMAX theater.  That would be all kinds of wild and crazy for my husband and me.

And just because I can't quit with YouTube, did you check out my latest Vlog?  If you missed it here it is.  After watching it again, I think I seem a little drunk.  Oops.  Click here if you want to subscribe to my new YouTube channel.

Instagram never gets boring.  Cool pictures with cool filters; and I just started following people, which adds a totally new fun-ness.  

Check out a few of my Instagram pics from the week:

What do you know for sure (this week)?  C'mon leave a comment!  Share what you know.

The Show Will Go On

"Back up,don't get so close to the fireworks," I snap.


"Don't run too close to each other with your sparklers," I warn.


"Holy shit, you're going to set the yard on fire, run!" I scream.

My oldest (and best listener) staying completely still per my request while he "enjoyed" his sparkler.

That was me being a totally un-fun mom at our impromptu Fourth of July fireworks on our driveway.  It wasn't pretty.

It was all fun, new and frightening to baby Wade.

I think this past couple weeks I've really proven something.  Yeah, that something is the fact that I suck in crisis.  I am referencing my cursing tirade at the scene of my sweet boy's arm-breaking fall of course (story here). 


I always relied on the fact that I might not handle the day-to-day stresses so great, but when the shit hit the fan, I was gold.  You just lost your job?  I was the type of girl (or so I thought) that would tell you "no worries, we are together and in love, we'll make it through anything."  My crazy mother is in the hospital (again)?  After a few tears, I would pull it together and make sure everyone was taken care of and the "right thing" was done.


But now my faith in my abilities has been rocked.


After JT broke his arm, I became one of those people.  Those worry wart people I used to judge and feel sorry for.  I used to watch those people and pray for their sake they could lighten up and not worry about everything.  Because worry sucks.  Especially worry about things we can't control, about people we love.  




The Fourth of July is not a holiday for people dealing with any kind of parenting anxiety.  Especially during a record setting heat wave with a near dead (but hopefully coming back to life) yard.


My husband, Tim, thought it would be fun to do fireworks in our driveway this year.  I worried about the dry yard conditions, the children getting burned, the house getting set on fire, etc.  Everyone had fun, despite my extreme worry and fun sucking gripes.

Obviously they think almost setting the neighbor's yard on fire is hilarious. 

My scary what-if visions and anxiety seemed to hit an all-time high on the fourth.  Now my worry lessons each day.  I still pray for those people that over worry constantly. But I will not stay in this place for too long.  It will fade, at least until the next crisis.  Which I  will handle with all kinds of bad words, screams and fun sucking.  That's just how I roll people.  The show will go on, this I know for sure.


What else I know for sure (this week):


I am psyched for the Olympics.  This is the official video and if this doesn't make you want to train or compete in something or at least get you pumped to watch the Olympics, I don't want to be your friend.  I'm kidding (sort of).  Just watch, it is awesome.

It's hot.  Like crazy hot, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you.  We've been trying to beat the heat indoors with Just Dance Wii parties, card games and painting projects.

I'm not going to lie, my husband and I love watching crime dramas on TV.  And we are happy, but sad too, that the final six episodes of The Closer starts on Monday.  It will be sad to say good-bye to Brenda, but thank god we still have the new season of The Good Wife this fall.

It's been a crazy couple weeks in pop culture.  First Ann Curry's awkward exit from The Today Show. Yikes.  Now TomKat?  I mean I'm not surprised by either.  But I am indeed surprised by Katie's hutzpah.  I'm Team Katie all the way.


Waterproof casts are the bomb.  Summer is officially back in session since JT got his fancy cast on this week.  He is able to swim in the pool and I worry a tiny bit less about all the wrestling.  

Social media is where it's at, remember that.  Click here to follow me on Twitter.  And click here to join the party on Facebook.  

What do you know for sure (this week)?

Fingers Crossed

Here's the thing....I have no idea what I am doing.


I am writing this post because I never want to sound preachy.  Someone asked me recently what I blog about and why, and I was stumped.  I guess I write because I have to, I share because it scares me.  The blog is about all the things I don't know or all the things I've screwed up and maybe a few things I think I've figured out.


With my life (and the blog) I do the best I can with a plan and then jump with my fingers crossed for the rest.  It's what we do right?  We hope, we pray, we plan, we negotiate, we compromise...but really ultimately it comes down to closing our eyes, crossing our fingers and having a little faith.  And appreciating all the moments that bring happiness.



It's kind of my philosophy. (love this Ben Folds Five song)


One afternoon years ago when I was newly engaged to Tim we went on a shopping trip to Home Depot.  The sun was shining brightly, I remember the day clearly, but not why we were going to the store.  I remember how I felt.  I described it to my sister like this: "I felt like it was a Saturday afternoon when we were little.  Is that crazy?" I told her.  "I think it means you feel happy and safe," she wisely said.  


Damn it she's good.


It's those safe moments, happy moments that I hold onto and share.  But I must admit, much like the female version of a Woody Allen-type character, I secretly cross my fingers during those moments.  I cross my fingers that I will soak it up and that I/we will have more.  Neurotic much?  I know.


Describing our warm winter here in Michigan to my wiser, older sister this past weekend, I mentioned that it made me worry about global warming which led to a mini panic attack.  She sighed and said "You think a lot about everything don't you?  Just try to keep your worries and thoughts local for now and enjoy the weather."


Damn it, she did it again.

So yesterday before kindergarten, we played outside.  No jackets, no worries.  But I was still secretly crossing my fingers for all sorts of things.




On a different note: 
What I do know is that I love The Voice.  I am late to the game on so many things...I didn't watch Parenthood for the first couple seasons, still haven't started watching Revenge because everybody tells me I have to start from the beginning.  But my god, I watched The Voice after the Superbowl and again last night and I f&#*ing love it.  I love it so much I want to wear my eye makeup like Xtina.  I love it so much if I were a kid I would so have loved playing this game in my Grandma's living room instead of The Price Is Right game we played.