Sunday I hit the big 4-0. That's right, forty. I am no longer in my thirties, but now I am in my forties. Wow. That is hard for me to say. I am 40 years old. It seems like just yesterday that my parents turned 40. Its hard to believe that time has flown by so quickly. What happened to my thirties? Or my twenties for that matter? 40 years old. Does that mean I have to start acting like an adult? I sure hope not.
I will say that the days leading up to 40, the days anticipating it, were much worse than actually waking up to 40. I dreaded my birthday tremendously. Yet, the morning I turned 40, it didn't feel any different. If anything, there was a bit of weight off my shoulders. It was kind of like, "Whew, it's finally here, and I'm not dead, I'm not decrepit, I'm actually feeling pretty good about it."
To celebrate, Cara and I had my parents, my aunt and uncle, my grandfather, my sister and her two boys, and my brother, his wife and their daughter over to our house. We had a smorgasbord of food and, of course, cake and ice cream. (My sister and my nephews made the ice cream, homemade, and it was unbelievably good!) I had a great day! It was a lot of fun! And it had been years since we had hosted any of our family gatherings, so that made it just that much more special.
40 really doesn't feel any different. Inside I am still about 10. Well, I sometimes feel like I'm 10. Cara would suggest that maturity-wise that would even be stretching it. I would definitely not like to be 10 again, because that would mean I had the teen years ahead of me, and I absolutely do NOT want to repeat those years! I guess I like 40. There is good and bad about reaching this age. But so far, 40 seems pretty good to me.
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