Happy Birthday, Christine!

Yay! It’s your birthday, Christine! And in celebration of the occasion, I found you a yellow Iris.

I hope the whole day is bliss!

Getting Older Rocks…

Remember when you were a little kid and you were so excited to get older that you corrected people who said you were five when you were really five and a half??

When did you stop counting the half years? When did it stop being cool to get older?

My son is turning 9 on Monday and is all about his new age. He likes it so much that he has been trying it out for weeks. “Yeah, I am almost 9.” “When I am 9 I am going to have my own computer.” “9 year olds don’t have to go to bed at the same time as their sisters, right Mom?” No hanging on to the last vestiges of being 8 for him.

Yet, I have so many friends who do that 29/39/49 and holding thing that I have to wonder what it is about aging that makes us want to go into such denial that we will actually pick a year and stick with it.

I get the mortality thing–that for many getting older represents that slow march toward death. I suppose if you are paying attention to the news, the constant images of age-related disease and disability could be a little disconcerting. If you look at it that way, it makes perfect sense that you would want to convince yourself that it ain’t gonna happen to you because you have no intention of moving from this spot thankyouverymuch!

Maybe it is because I love who I am at 36 and wouldn’t choose to relive any of my past. Maybe it is because I hang out with people who are older than I am and they seem to be having so much fun. Maybe it is because I have been called a baby by someone at every age I have ever been* and am looking forward to the age when that stops. Maybe I am the one in denial and don’t choose to see the correlation between birthdays and illness.

Regardless, I love getting older. I love adding days to my calendar and reams to my memories.

Ultimately, I think it has more to do with being okay with who I am right this moment while also looking forward to the next iteration of Gina. It is like a birthday every moment with the gift being the discovery of what growth and delight and deepening and love and joy I get to play with now.

So, here’s to birthdays and half birthdays and 127/365ths birthdays. Make a wish and blow out your candles. It’s your birthday and getting older rocks!

*You know how it goes: “Oh, you are (fill in age here)?? You are still a baby!!” What is it about that dismissive statement that makes me want to do violence??

No seriously…

It has not been two months since my last post!

I have thought all sorts of incredibly important and insightful thoughts. Didn’t I post about my 36th birthday party, complete with band and chocolate mousse? No? Well, how about the incredible St Valentine’s weekend at the state park covered in snow? Not that either?? Okay, surely I told y’all all about my real, live, paying client that officially kicked off my life coaching business, right? Right???

Oh, guys, I am so sorry!

It seems the more I have to say the less able I am to drop by ye ole blog and say it.

Well, I will tell you that the blog has proven to be slightly beneficial for my writing career. (I didn’t even know I had or wanted a writing career!) My rant on the language surrounding the Combating Autism Act was picked up by a magazine. It seems that at least one other person thinks it is high time we think about the language we use when discussing diagnosis and disability. I won’t re-rant here. Just wanted to send out a woot! for the record.

And because this entry is officially all over the map and is begging for some sort of cohesiveness, I will end where I began:

As of right now, it has not been two months since my last post.

See y’all in June…

Um, Yeah, The Gym…

Being as this is Tuesday (okay very early on Wednesday) no one who is familiar with my routine will be shocked that I missed the gym today. However, Sunday and Monday both ended up gymless, as well. What (gasp) could keep me from the gym 3 days in a row? Well, hmmmm, shopping for my not-so-baby boy’s birthday present covers Sunday. (Really, I only get a couple of hours of childcare a day, so I had to choose – gym or presents and presents won.)

Monday we spent hours touring our downtown area via the free trolleys. We caught a Wurlitzer organ concert, grabbed lunch at that restaurant that all kids somehow recognize at birth, and played on the playground – all with trolley rides in between. We had a blast, but I missed the workout window.

And you wanna know what? I am cool with it. See, it is about balance. And I typically don’t have balance. I am such an all or nothing kinda gal. It would be so typical of me to get “workout” stuck in my brain and not be able to see around it to schedule anything else, but not this time. I am still on track to make my 200-in-a-year goal, so I refuse to beat myself up.

In other news, I am still treading the 173 pound mark. If it continues much longer, I am going to take the scale apart and look for a hidden camera.

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