Oh, Lord, I just realized today that my birthday is next week. I mean, I KNEW that my birthday was next week, but I just suddenly put together the facts that it had been almost a year since I turned 36, and hence, relentless passage of time and all (see also: march toward death), I am almost 37.
I JUST NOW realized what it is that I liked so much about the age 36! I really like it when the ages of my kids and I are all multiples of 3 (which happens every three years). So, until next week, we are 36, 12, 9, and 6. Until I foul it up with an ungainly 7. The next time that happens we'll be 39, 15, 12, and 9. And I'm sorry, but 15 just doesn't seem all that 3-ish. It has more of a 5-like air about it. (Right now my brother and Clay are both realizing, again, how different the world I live in looks from theirs. Or, put another way, that I am a nutjob. LOVE YOU BOTH!)
Anyhow, 37. Sort of a sober looking number. I never trusted sevens when I was a kid. Slippery little devils. And more to the point, it turns out that I'm not exactly young anymore. I'm not quite ready to cop to being old...but I'm not young. There isn't a lot that I could do that would be surprising, given my age. I mean, I could climb a mountain, write a book, start a grass-roots campaign, develop my own language, or achieve cold fusion in my bathtub, and among all the things people would have to say about my accomplishments, NO ONE would feel led to say, "And at her age, too! SO YOUNG!"
It doesn't make me feel any better to acknowledge the fact that I'm not likely to do any of those things, despite being fully old enough, either. Thanks.
[This self-pitying session interrupted to bring you this news from my evening: at bedtime my eldest son read a book to my youngest son, for the third night in a row. Without me asking him to, just because Raphael wanted him to. And at the same time, Clay sat at the table with Max, finishing the world's longest Scrabble game. At the end, Max won, which means Clay not only sat there patiently during the sort of Scrabble play that would have forced me to pierce my tongue with a butter knife to stay awake, but he also reined in his killer competitive drive enough for Max to eek out a win - but JUST enough, so that he could feel proud of his win. I have the most amazing guys.]
So, after careful consideration, I have decided to run for president. Although I'd rather play Scrabble with Max than get involved in politics, it's the only achievement I can think of that would be amazing at my age. As a matter of fact, that's my entire platform: Kira - SHE'S SO YOUNG to be president! Limber up your write-in pens, and together we can make
me feel not so old this country great again! I'm the candidate for change! Hope! Security! Whatever! I'm so young! Besides, Clay would make a very attractive first gentleman, and who doesn't like eye candy?
My name is Kira, and while it may be going too far to say I approved this message, I at least didn't have the wisdom to think better of it.