This is 40

 I was 30 when Judd Apatow’s movie came out.  Just married, no kids. Laughed my ass off anyway, but I didn’t relate to it all. I just appreciated watching Paul Rudd shove starfish in his underwear, and Leslie Mann banter with him about how they would kill each other if they ever did it. Even then I knew marriage can be a real bitch sometimes.

Now I am 40. Now I relate to the whole thing (watch it if you never have, it’s a good one). Sassy, combative daughters. Younger, more attractive woman everywhere. Husband “escapes” to the bathroom for 30+ minutes at a time. “Do better” lists.

40 is funny, let’s face it.

But it’s also incredible, I have to say. The one thing I don’t relate to, and thought I would, is the denial. I don’t want to lie about my age. I want to flaunt it. I made it. 40! That’s a big one. And it’s an honour, I think. A rite of passage.

I’m about 25 pounds heavier than I’d like. I eat too much sugar. I am way too hard on my husband. I worry too much, think too much, sleep too little. Priorities still get out of whack, even after everything I’ve “gone through”.

But it’s ok.

Somehow, more things are ok now. 40 is like an internal excuse for permission to let it go. To let it be. To own it and embrace it – all that messy stuff that life brings. The imperfections. The goals unattained and the vices we still cling to. It’s all good, man.

Maybe it’s a bit of a female thing. For me, anyway. As a woman, I’ve always felt like I’ve had something to prove my whole life. Maybe just as a person. I’ve needed to really demonstrate value, and read the room, and figure out what’s expected of me, and play the part, and all that nonsense. Turning 40 seems to have eased that vice grip a bit. It’s given me an opportunity to take a deeper breath. To sigh, and laugh at how silly it all gets sometimes.

This year was so rich and full and epic. All of our celebrations have been. But this one – this birthday – I allowed myself to feel it all and take it all in. So many people did so many things to make sure I was celebrated, and that in and of itself was enough to level me. So much love, and kindness, and gestures of appreciation.

And with so many birthdays around me, too. Milestone birthdays come in packages, because we tend to have networks of people of the same age, celebrating the same things at the same time. So many people I adore are moving into the next decade of life this year, and all of them people that deserve this same caliber of celebration.

And perhaps most of them also realizing that 40 means hangovers are significantly more deadly than they used to be.

I did all of the things I wanted. Romance with hubby. Secret surprise delectable dinner with dear friends. Winery lunch. Forest hike. Mommy-made breakfast. Snuggles with kiddos. And a good ol’ night out with the gals. And although not birthday related, I even got to slip in one epic night at the elementary school carnival, savouring the sights and sounds of my whole town in one place, with one objective – have as much fun as possible, together. Who knew that would feel like such a novelty?

Life is full of luxuries. Yesterday Violet and I arrived once again in Vancouver for Round 3 of her immunotherapy treatment. By this 3rd round, we are starting to feel like there is a swing to things. We know what to pack. We know what to expect. We don’t need to tour of RMH when we arrive, and don’t need an explanation of how procedures and processes will go over the next week. Violet got her “leg shot” without much complaint, and went wandering around Ronald McDonald House to find friends and things to do. We even had an incredible visit with her little friend, Rylie, who is now recovering from her recent transplant battle.

Sunshine. Fresh, free morning coffee and muffins. An open day ahead of us. And a belated birthday dinner tonight with my brother and sister-in-law. A luxurious Tuesday.

I’m still going to put together a “do better” list. I’d still like to lose that 25 pounds of hospital weight, eat less sugar, do more yoga, write that book. Those things don’t go away. It’s nice to have things to focus on. Things to work toward and improve.

But I’m not doing it for anyone else anymore. Matt and I have been talking a lot lately about how to give back to a community and a world that has been so generous and kind to us. And we will. But the energy behand it isn’t obligation or guilt. It’s an acknowledgment that there is so much richness to life, and what better way to milk it than to share and add energy to positive things. To generate more kindness and love and sense of community. Those things have enriched our lives beyond belief, and have made it possible for me to have such a meaningful birthday.

Lucy turns 6 in a week. And I intend to milk this joy forward right into her special day. Shouldn’t be hard – kids get it. Life is meant to be fun, and joyful, and silly, and shared. And the selfish bonus for me having hers so close to mine? I can pretend her bouncy castle is also for my birthday (just don’t tell her I’m stealing any credit).