It is hard to imagine that tomorrow I will be only be eight years away from 50 and I hate to be anti-cliche, but the adage “your only as old as you feel” sounds like a load of crap about now. Last month, we celebrated my youngest daughter’s 10th birthday! She is now “double digits” as she let everyone know before the big day.
Hate to break it to you Regs but I have been double digits since 1979.
I don’t mind the aging process. The act of growing older is something we get accustomed to at an early age, but what we don’t know is all the BS that comes with being an adult. That I think is what makes the getting older process much worse than it could be.
When Reagan turned ten, I thought more about her being a part of my life for the last ten years than I did about her tenth birthday. Having both Sam and Regs around for the last 11+ and ten years has been one of the true accomplishments of my life and truly a blessing from God, but there wasn’t anyway Mom and Dad could explain to me when I was 22 what it would be like to watch my kids develop as people and then adjust to the changing ages.
So, as I turn the corner on 42 it doesn’t concern me that I am leaving 40 in the dust, but what bothers me is knowing my girls are going to continue to change from the wonderful little girls I have watched for the last decade. We are entering into Middle School next year and on my birthday tomorrow is the open house for the parents to go and see what it looks like. The lockers, the changing classes, being in the same building with 7th and 8th graders, albeit separated from them, will not be part of the tour tomorrow evening. What also won’t be part of the tour are the situations that will cause her pain or joy as she moves through an incredibly tumultuous seven years culminating with High School graduation.
Turning 42 is not about more grey hair, I have plenty of that, or how I plan on losing the weight I need to lose, but about the dawn of girl drama and it becoming a daily part of my existence for the next who knows how many years. I know my wife is looking forward to it more than I am. Right.
This is one of the things that no one can prepare you for as you are growing up. We didn’t sit in class in 12th grade and have a teacher dissect how dealing with pre-teens is going to be. So, the end result is that there isn’t an inkling of what is about to transpire and how we are going to deal with it.
I only know what it was like dealing with drama at that age; granted most of what I dealt with was caused by me, but now I get to be the comforting Dad on the other side.
Lord help me! May I not reap what I have sown!