Notes on Turning 40...

Getting old ain't for sissies.
- Bette Davis

I really didn't think that turning 40 tomorrow would be a huge milestone in my life.

Honestly, I thought I felt like the same person I was when I was 19. Except my hands are drier.

It wasn't until yesterday when I talked to a friend on the phone and she wished me a happy birthday that I did a little freaking out.

Don't wish me a happy birthday NOW! I've got two more days left before I turn 40! Don't take that away from me!

I realized that although I felt the same, I really wasn't the same, and started making some notes about the differences between then and now...

When I watch America's Funniest Home Videos I don't laugh when elderly people fall out of porch swings or when young guys crush their nads doing various "jackassy" things any more. I cringe, because I can't stop thinking about their insurance deductibles.

I still laugh my butt off when grooms faint at the altar and babies blow chunks on their parents though.

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When I was about 12, we got cable for the first time. I saw some old fart named Rod Stewart performing "Do You Think I'm Sexy?" in gold spandex pants and ran screaming from the room. 28 years later, he still has the same haircut and I still have the same reaction.

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I feel a little shocked when Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me" is played during the Classic Rock Hour right after Steppenwolf's "Magic Carpet Ride".

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My little guy used to ask me..."When you were a girl, did you ever do...?" Now he prefaces everything with, "Back in the dark ages, did you..."?

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I remember when Mel Gibson was young and hot instead of grizzled and crazy.

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I used to have major crushes on young, studly teen heartthrobs with big hair and great teeth. I was going to looove them 4-ever!! Shaun Cassidy, Leif Garrett, Clark Brandon and Jimmy MacNichol come to mind. Now I see Leif Garret---balding, bankrupt and brain-dead and wonder---eeek what was I thinking? I couldn't begin to guess who's on the cover of Teen Beat Magazine this month.

Today when I see current "heartthrobs" with names like Justin/Clay/Aaron and Colin, all I can think of is "Let's see you mow my lawn, ya little pussy!"

Nowadays my secret guilty crush is Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs. I mean seriously, what real woman in her right mind wouldn't find a guy who can stand waist-deep in doody and laugh irresistible? Especially while he's cleaning it up with a big hose!

But my hubby got grumpy when I mentioned this and said, "Yeah, I'd be laughing too if somebody paid me 50K an episode to smile and shovel shit on TV".

Gotta give him that.

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When I was about 16, The Police came out with a song called "Every Breath You Take". I thought it was the ultimate in romantic love songs. Now when I hear it, all I can think of is....RESTRAINING ORDER!!!!!

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I worry about what to do with my hair. When I was 13, I overheard a man say that he'd never seen a pretty redhead. Being naturally redheaded (and unfortunately freckled), it was a stab to the heart. Despite my mom's protests ("but your hair is a beautiful color!") I spent the next 15 or so years bleaching or dying the crop on my head. Anything to make it "not red".

My hair is also baby-fine and straight as a board. It won't hold a curl even if you stuck an electric cattle prod in my ear and zapped me at high voltage. So add perming and waving to the mix, and it was a mess.

I spent years trying to grow it long. With all the torture I put to it, and with the fried ends, it never grew past my shoulders. It wasn't until my late 20's when I stopped doing stuff to it that it grew.

Now at 40, my hair is down my back. Ironically, it's more of a nuisance than anything, because it gets very tangly and I have to keep it tied up in a bun or a ponytail.

Should I cut it? Now that I'm "officially" middle-aged? Will I look like a pathetic person trying to grasp onto my youth if I don't get a short and perky matronly mommy hairdo?

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When I was 20, I was already a wife and mother. I look at my 20-year-old son and imagine him as a husband and father at this age. No wonder my parents were so aghast!

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It wasn't until I found my biological family (I'm an adoptee) in my mid-30's that I realized I'd had an underlying thread of intense anxiety that permeated my entire being for the majority of my life.

Finding my birth family changed nothing, yet it changed everything. I still had laundry to do, and kids to raise, and dog poop to pick up, but getting answers to lifelong questions about "where did I come from?" and "why was I adopted?" took a weight off my back that I didn't really realize was there.

It helped me come to terms with a lot of issues, and now I'm a more relaxed person.

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I spent the first 25 years of my life post-diapers picking my undies out of my crack. Then some genius came along and invented undies that were specifically designed to stick up my crack. Was I thrown into some kind of parallel universe where women actually like having things stuck up their butt to avoid panty lines?

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When I was growing up, I made a list of things I was never going to do or say when I became a parent. Now when I open my mouth, my mother comes falling out. How in the hell did that happen?