I was nine years old when my Mom and Dad turned 40. I remember making a homemade sign using old school computer paper hung together by its perforations. It said something as eloquent as, 'You're Over the Hill.' It was the 90s and life was a little more abrasive.
In comparison, in this softer day and age, my kids made Peter cards that said, 'I love you,' I sent my sister a card that didn't mention the big #40, and my brother in law received a card that said Happy 29th Birthday again.
While I'm not quite there yet, I'm trying to reconcile the worry around age 40.
Perhaps it's the fact that when I was growing up, 40 seemed like the quintessential parent age. At that juncture, you had a little gray in your hair, you were wise, all knowing, staid, tried, and true. Good old, Mom and Dad.
And perhaps, it's because for a lifetime, 40 seemed forever away. A number I couldn't possibly reach. But with each year I creep closer, I wonder if the definition assigned to 40 is right.
As I look to loved ones around me, who have all celebrated a 40th birthday in the past three months, I am finding new dimensions to this age. Husband and wife, co-parent, careers, a little gray - sure. Staid, tried, true - definitely not.
Last weekend, I celebrated 40 with my good friend Dan and Peter in Aspen. It was Dan's awesome idea - we just signed up to participate immediately. From what I witnessed, 40 looked amazing.
To them it meant being happily married and standing with that person at the summit of a mountain. Not a step over it.
In comparison, in this softer day and age, my kids made Peter cards that said, 'I love you,' I sent my sister a card that didn't mention the big #40, and my brother in law received a card that said Happy 29th Birthday again.
While I'm not quite there yet, I'm trying to reconcile the worry around age 40.
Perhaps it's the fact that when I was growing up, 40 seemed like the quintessential parent age. At that juncture, you had a little gray in your hair, you were wise, all knowing, staid, tried, and true. Good old, Mom and Dad.
And perhaps, it's because for a lifetime, 40 seemed forever away. A number I couldn't possibly reach. But with each year I creep closer, I wonder if the definition assigned to 40 is right.
As I look to loved ones around me, who have all celebrated a 40th birthday in the past three months, I am finding new dimensions to this age. Husband and wife, co-parent, careers, a little gray - sure. Staid, tried, true - definitely not.
Last weekend, I celebrated 40 with my good friend Dan and Peter in Aspen. It was Dan's awesome idea - we just signed up to participate immediately. From what I witnessed, 40 looked amazing.
To them it meant being happily married and standing with that person at the summit of a mountain. Not a step over it.
It meant cute kids ... and parents who are willing to fly in for the weekend to watch them.
It meant enough cash flow to take a long weekend in Aspen.
But at the same time, no where near the cash flow of the botoxed bunnies in Moncler coats skiing next to us.
40 meant you could sneak in to the party without getting carded.
40 meant you could discern really great champagne, but also release your inhibitions and start spraying it everywhere. (At 37, I was still too nervous and ended up running out of the party.)
40 also affords you years of experience skiing, so after having too many bottles of champagne and buckets of Bud Lite, you can still make it down the mountain at the end of the Cloud Nine party.
40 meant the wisdom to know that speed kills and that skiing with Kerry will make you live forever.
40 meant summiting. Literally. At least for Dan and about four others in our group ... and then it meant skiing down the steepest in bound run in the Colorado.
40 meant you could start planning the next party in New York City ... and then the next one after that in Martha's Vineyard.
Because one of the things I've realized when you get in the range of 40, is that life is too short, I need more time with my hubby, and the best part of work is the vacations it affords.
Happy 40th to Erin, Peter, Dan and Joe - four people who are on top of the mountains ...
... singing for all the world to hear
... trying to get me to move closer to them
... photographing the views
... and riding the powder with ease all the way down to the Apres Ski destination of the day.
Because one of the things I've realized when you get in the range of 40, is that life is too short, I need more time with my hubby, and the best part of work is the vacations it affords.
Happy 40th to Erin, Peter, Dan and Joe - four people who are on top of the mountains ...
... singing for all the world to hear
... trying to get me to move closer to them
... photographing the views
... and riding the powder with ease all the way down to the Apres Ski destination of the day.
Lo.
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