How old do you have to be to....?

My kid turned five earlier this month. He is utterly and thoroughly delighted at becoming another year older.

He is constantly asking, "How old do you have to be to [insert something awesome here]?"

Or he'll say, "Can 5 year-olds [insert something rad here]?"

He is completely bought into the idea that each year older means more opportunity, more fun, and generally, more awesomeness.

If only this was the case for all of us.

I am approaching a milestone birthday this year as well, and while I love Birthday Fun Week and all of the fanfare that goes along with a big birthday, I've still been feeling kind of blah about it. But then, suddenly, last weekend, a few things occurred to me.

• Would I really want to be, say, 30 years old again? Nope.
• Are there amazing things I can do now that I couldn't do at 22...or 28...or even 35? Absolutely. 
• Could it really be true that, even at my age, each year older might mean more awesomeness? Hmm. I think I'm on to something here. 

And so, here is a list of some (not all) of the awesome things you can do because you are (almost) 40.

1. You know a little something about wine, you don't choose (usually) based on pretty labels, and you can afford the bottles you want to drink.
2. You embrace change and know that, even when it's scary, charting new courses is a part of finding success. 
3. You know and value your true friends, and you make time for each other. 
4. But you also know that you do not have to be friends with anyone who isn't bringing positivity to your life. 
5. You can eat bacon any time you want.
6. You know that life is short, and taking risks is necessary to take full advantage of the time we have here. 
7. But you also know that life is long, and it's best to surround yourself with the people that make you the happiest. 
8. You are brave. And not the silly, blind braveness of your '20s. The strong, confident, I can-kick-the-shit-out-of-life kind of brave that changes lives. 
9. You can buy the shoes or the handbag or the diamond earrings for no special reason at all. 
10. You decide what looks good on you, rock whatever you want, and show off whatever body part you choose simply because it makes you feel good.
11. You can say no.
12. You make pain-free sacrifices for your family because what makes them happy makes you happy.
13. You can be wrong, say you're sorry, admit your faults. And then you learn from it and move on. 
14. You take long weekends with your partner or your girlfriends and go big in a way you never would have dreamed when you were in your '20s. 
15. You make good choices, you make bad choices, you make miracles, you make missteps, you make great things happen, you make massive mistakes, but always, you own it all. 

One thing to note: Can 40 year-olds drink like they did in their '20s without any repercussions? Unfortunately, this is is a no. 

However, can 40 year-olds look ahead to another decade that just keeps getting more awesome? Absolutely yes.

I'll take that trade-off. 

My Year in Review - 2015

Because Facebook just doesn't seem to tell the whole story, it's time for my annual no-filters, totally self-centered reflection on the year past. In no particular order, here's a look back at the somewhat bittersweet year of a full time social media manager, a full time mommy, and a full time part time party girl.

1. Successfully made it to Boo's 4th birthday, Tim's 45th birthday, and my 39th birthday, all of which were celebrated with over the top Birthday Fun Weeks.
2. Completed - with zero cheats - the Whole 30 in January, a 30 day detox that cut out sugar, dairy, grains, alcohol & legumes. I felt amazing .
3. Consumed all of the sugar, dairy, grains, alcohol and legumes in the greater Seattle area in December. I felt feel un-amazing.
4. Participated in and blogged about the Complaint Project & realized how much of an impact our words & outlook really have on ourselves...and each other.
5. Struggled with a pretty serious case of summertime ennui resulting in bad choices & self-destructive behavior which, let's be honest, trickled into the fall too.
6. Made the long, adults-only, weekend cool again and travelled to New Orleans, Vegas, Vancouver, and Sonoma & loved every second of my kid-free holidays.
7. Took our first family vacation in 2 years to Kauai and relished every second of a peaceful, relaxing and totally family-friendly holiday.
8. Felt enormously grateful to have the flexibility & the means to prioritize travel.
9. Got with the program and stopped double-spacing after periods. (I'm a writer, people, this something worthwhile to note.)
10. Swelled with pride, emotion and hysterical laughter as I watched my kid grow & become his own hilarious, intelligent, quirky, independent little weirdo.
11. Seethed with irritation, impatience and frustration at my stubborn, bratty, ungrateful little monster.
12. Ran. And ran. And ran. And then I ran my first half marathon, beating my goal by 17 minutes
    
    and my stretch goal by 2 minutes. And finally felt like I could call myself an athlete.
13. Haven't run more than 5 miles at at time since then.
14. Was consistently consumed by thoughts of work. First, unhappiness and unfullfillment. Then, struggles with Imposter Syndrome and self-doubt. Slowly, not only acceptance of myself and my role, but a total embrace of where I am in my career. And finally, pride in my accomplishments & total excitement of what's to come.
15. Did not appreicate my husband enough for the amazing man that he is & everything he does for me and our family.
16. Drank a lot of wine with my girls. Felt both hungover and yet rejuvenated. 
17. Continued my neverending struggle with balance, still teetertottering from one extreme to the other. 
18. Cried and cried and cried and felt something inside me change when my Aunt Gina, my godmother, died of Lewy Body disease in September. Cried while delivering my reading at the funeral. Cried for a lot of October. And November. And December too. 
19. Became totally irritated and frustrated by anything that seems or feels inauthentic, often having trouble hiding my annoyance.
20. Talked about penises, poop and tooting more than I ever could have thought possible.
21. Laughed so much. Hopefully as much as I cried.
22. Felt inspired and empowered during the Grace Hopper Women in Computer Conference in Houston. Realized that I am, in fact, a woman in technology, and that is pretty badass.
23. Marked the 10 year anniversary of Tim's and my relationship & celebrated the fact that, overall, despite the tough times and our challenges, we are still in love. 
24. Took risks, allowed myself to be uncomfortable, stayed up too late, said yes, did things that scared me, spoke my mind, looked like an idiot, and embraced the absurdity of life. 
25. Discovered that even with my ennui, my struggles and my sadness, overall, the life I lead is pretty incredble.  

All I can say is....what's next? 

In This Room

I will sit in the same room as you.

Sometimes, there just aren't any words. Sometimes, it isn't about having answers or solutions. Sometimes, conversations are unnecessary. Sometimes, being there for each other is just that, being there. Sometimes, we do not have to talk. But we can sit in the same room.

In that room, we can find strength. We are not alone in our sorrow or our grief or our hurt. We have each other to help bear the weight. We do not need to say it because we already know. In that room, we are free to experience emotion. We do not apologize for our tears. We do not apologize for our anger. In that room, we are whoever we need to be, and we do whatever we need to do. In that room, there are no guidelines, no rights and wrongs, no censorship of our emotions. In that room, there is only us and complete acceptance.

There is no time limit on how long we can sit in this room. We can talk or not talk. Yell or not yell. Cry or not cry. We can welcome distractions or face it head-on or pretend like everything is the same as before outside of this room. We do not have to leave until you are ready. I will not leave until you are ready.

You didn't leave until I was ready.

When there was nothing anyone could say to me to make it better, you sat in the same room as me. We were alternately silent and loud. We were sad and angry and peaceful and optimistic all at once. You held my hand as I felt all of these things. You were there with me in the same room, and you did not leave. When we finally departed, I still wasn't better. I was not healed, but I knew I was not alone.

I would do anything to make it better for you. I know I can't. But I can sit in the same room as you.

To Me, You Are Perfect

When I was younger, I used to dream about my Prince Charming, my Mr. Darcy, my one true love. I knew there had to be the perfect man out there that would, swoon, love me just as I am. Romanticized visions of marriage and partnership danced in my head. Even doing the dishes together would be foreplay, I dreamt. Sweet wedded bliss meant a best friend and a lover all at once, no need for anyone else.

And it happened. I have an incredible husband. He loves me for me. Yes, yes, yes. It's everything I thought it could be. (Except for the dishes thing, obviously.) But now, as I get older, I'm understanding something that I didn't before. There is absolutely a need for others. All that time I spent seeking Mr. Right may well have been better spent fostering the relationships that I, stupidly, took for granted. Because who else offers us unconditional acceptance & companionship? Who else loves us just as we are?

Exactly. Our girlfriends. Our friend family. Our urban tribe.

Yes, of course, it makes sense that our focus is usually inward, on our own families, on the partnership that we've created within our own homes. But I will argue that nurturing those female friendships that we've come to depend on is also important. (And this isn't just a way for me to get my husband to agree that I need more Girls Nights Out. I mean, not completely.) They keep us sane, they keep us grounded, they keep us going.

And so today, let's raise a glass to all of the ladies in our lives that make it that much more sparkly. Here's to your hilarity and your drive and your swagger and your beauty and your brilliance. To the way you light up a room as you enter. To your unconditional support even when you disagree with us. Here's to your ability to admit fear & insecurity. Here's to your always knowing the right thing to say. To your bad dancing and mistake-making. To your amazing achievements and unbelievable fortitude. To your companionship and always spot-on advice. To your differing opinions and showing us that there is more than one right way. To your quiet strength and the way you speak up for what you know is right. Here's to always being there for each other. Here's to enduring both sun and rain.

Here's to you, you beautiful sparkling amazing you.

No, Really, It's Okay

The statements I am about to make might be startling to some of you.  They might make you uncomfortable. You might not be able to relate.  But I am going to say them anyway.

Sometimes my child is an asshole. 
Sometimes my husband and I long for the days when it was just us.
Sometimes I long for the days when it was just me.
Sometimes I want to go back and make different decisions.
Sometimes I wish we had just used a condom.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if Tim and I had just broken up after that big fight right after I moved to Seattle.
Sometimes I want to be somebody other than me.

I know some of you feel the same way as I do, and maybe you've been mommy-shamed or friend-shamed or spouse-shamed for feeling this way - I know I have - but I am here to tell you that it's okay.  It's okay to feel this way.  It has to be okay for us to feel this way.

It's okay to miss your freedom.  It's okay to miss flirting.  It's okay to miss your independence.  It's okay to miss international travel.  It's okay to miss sleeping in.  It's okay to miss being selfish.  It's okay to absolutely delight in your time away from your family.  It's okay to take a Girls/Guys Weekend to Vegas.  It's okay to schedule an Adventure Night (our code name for the otherwise hideously known "Date Night") every week and wish for more.  It's okay to miss the "old days".  It's okay to long for an entire weekend to yourself.  It's okay for you to want it to be about you every once in awhile.  It has to be okay to feel these things.  It has to be okay for us to talk about feeling these things without fear. 

It doesn't mean we don't love our families.  It doesn't mean that we are bad parents or bad partners.  It doesn't mean that we aren't happy with the lives we lead.  It just means that sometimes we're looking over the fence at grass that appears greener. 

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but it has to be okay to check it out every once in awhile.  How else will we know that our own grass, though overgrown & mossy in patches, is still pretty fucking green after all?

A Look Back

Because Facebook never seems to tell the whole story, I think it's time to remove the filters & break down my true 2014.  Here's an actual Year in Review of a Full Time Marketer, a Full Time Mommy & a Full Time Party Girl.  Thanks for being a part of it.

1. Successfully made it to Boo's third birthday which he insisted on celebrating without pants
   
2. Listened to "Shake It Off" and "Problem" way too many times
3. Struggled with balance, often finding myself on a teeter-totter of extremes
4. Relished, delighted in, and truly loved being a Mother to Boo & took great pleasure in our time together, watching him grow & change, and experiencing joy & newness through his eyes
5. Relished, delighted in, and truly loved my time alone, with Tim or with my girlfriends
6. Changed the name from "Date Nights" to "Adventure Nights" & made them a priority again
7. Embraced my total Book Nerdiness & read a ton of new genres & authors
8. Called myself a writer, but only wrote 10 blog posts (wait, 11 including this one!)
9. Continued my love affair with wine while actually learning a lot about it during trips to Paso Robles, Napa and Sonoma, twice
10. Learned the definitions of "microagressions" and "mansplaining" & experienced both, along with straight-up sexism, in both professional & personal settings
11. Resolved that I would never, ever again allow myself to be condescended to or bullied again
12. Began running again, found a renewed positive attitude toward it, achieved Personal Bests during a 5K in June & another in November, and committed to running my first half-marathon in June 2015(!)
13. Celebrated as Boo started & thrived in preschool!  Cried at the quick decline of our family's health accompanying this milestone
14. Loved my job, feared losing my job, questioned how good I was at my job, put everything I had into my job, thought about finding a new job, cried over changes to come in my job, explored how I could turn my love of my job into a business, and, finally, embraced the uncertainty of my job
15. Cried as my Aunt, my God Mother, someone I've been very close with over all of these years, battles a disease that has turned her into a shell of herself.  Prayed - something I almost never do - for her and our family and all of the families struggling with disease & dementia
16. Watched as my friendships changed, mourning those that are now lost & finding joy in new friends, renewed friends, and, of course, old friends
17. Laughed.  A lot.  Cried a lot too.  (I guess there was balance in some areas then.)
18. Dug deep into the idea of "Having It All", struggled with the guilt of being a working mother, and learned from the experiences of other women.  Looked forward to continuing to pursue & share more on this topic in the new year 
19. Navigated the minefield that is a 9-year relationship; always trying to be careful, treading lightly & treating it with respect while always just a little worried what might blow up
20. Chalked up yet another year without international travel (not counting Canada, eh), and the hole in my gypsy soul got bigger by the day
21. Had lots and lots and lots of Dance Parties (see #2)
22. Accepted some of the things in my life I cannot change, forgave myself for some larger mistakes and simultaneously struggled with regret
23. Marked the 20th anniversary of my high school graduation, reminding me of the 18 year old poet & dreamer that's still inside me & remembering to listen to her a little more often
24. Thought to myself over and over again, "I can't do this.  This is too hard.  I am not equipped for this.  I can't, I can't, I can't."  But then I went ahead and did it anyway. 
25. Expressed gratitude for this amazing life I am lucky enough to lead.  But not nearly often as I should have done.

What a year it's been. xo

Smoke It If You Got It!

In honor of the opening of Seattle's first legalized pot shop a few weeks ago, I have decided to share with you some of my finer moments under the influence of this now-legal herb.  So sit back, relax, and have plenty of snacks ready to go.

Paranoia Sets In
The first time I got stoned, I was sitting on the back patio of my Mom's house in Plymouth with my girl friend who I will call Sally just in case she doesn't want to be associated with this story.  I had smoked before, but it's likely that I didn't inhale properly because that summer evening was definitely the first time I felt it.  Yep, as we sat on the peach-colored patio chairs, Michigan summer sun setting slowly, toking off our borrowed bowl because we clearly did not have our own paraphernalia, we got stoned.  We laughed our asses off too.  Until we heard the police sirens.  Sally thought it would be funny to tell me that the police were on to us, and they were probably coming to arrest us that minute.  Being the insane rule follower that I am & unable to correctly identify tone in my altered state, I totally freaked out.  My paranoia & freaking out then caused Sally to forget that she had, in the first place, been joking, and now SHE was also freaking out that the cops were after us for the tiny bag of shake we managed to procure - probably from one of our younger brothers.  We decided our best option was to head inside and HIDE under some blankets in the family room from the inevitable sting that was about to occur.  Forty-five minutes later, we were beginning to sober up.  In the world's first true A-HA moment, Sally remembered that, oh crap, she had actually just been joking around about the cops from the start!
Disaster averted, we went back to the patio to regain our buzz & then watched reruns of Quantum Leap for the rest of the night.

It's Jamaica, Mon
A few years later, I went to Jamaica on Spring Break with some of my sorority sisters.  I would like to clarify that we were not in the semi-nice part of Jamaica.  In fact, we were in the total not-nice part of Jamaica.  However, it was to our benefit that marijuana smugglers from my neighboring hometown of Livonia, Michigan also enjoy staying in the not-nice part of Jamaica.  Yes, Gentle Reader, it's true.  I met a real life drug smuggler from Michigan in the bar of our hotel.  And - surprise, surprise - he didn't mind sharing his stash with some college girls.  As long as we didn't mind sharing our fifth of banana rum.  (We didn't.)  Wisely, four of us girls went to his hotel room where he proceeded to roll joint after joint.  He would take a couple of tokes, decide that it was not smoking properly and would promptly throw it off the balcony.  This happened six or seven times before he finally rolled one that he felt good about.  Before leaving, he gave me a handful of pot to take with me.  "What should I do with it?" I asked.  "Put it in your pocket, mon!" he replied.   Aside:  you can bet your bottle of banana rum that we went back the next day and collected those joints he threw off the balcony.  Interestingly enough, they smoked fine for us.

We Should Start AAA In New Zealand
And a few years after that, I was living in New Zealand.  My girl friend, Casey (yeah, I changed her name too), and I were on a month-long road trip in the South Island.  If you have been to New Zealand, you will know that one simply does not go on a road trip without a lot of dak.  (Aside: the word "dak" is slang for pot Down Under.  If someone offers you "dak cake", it is not something you should eat 2 or 3 pieces of because you think it's just delicious chocolate cake.  End of aside.) While visiting Mt Cook National Park, we were staying at the Mt Cook YHA.  Gentle Reader, this is basically a youth hostel in the middle of freaking Mordor.  It is, how shall we say, isolated. After an awesome day of hiking, we decide to go out to the car to relax & toke up a bit.  We were listening to music, talking, laughing, being ridiculous.  We got out of the car, locked it up because, you know, we're in the middle of nowhere, when we turned back to realize that the car, in fact, was still running.  We had smoked so much dak that we locked the car with the keys in the ignition still running.  Except that we had also smoked so much dak that it was so hysterical that we couldn't stop laughing or do anything about it.  A locksmith made the trek through Mordor the next day.  He also, wisely, brought us a tank of gas.  We had to give him the ring (My Preciousssss) in exchange.  Seemed fair.

Happy Toking, Seattle!

It Was 20 Years Ago Today (Here's to the Class of 1994)

June 12, 1994

With butterflies in my stomach & pink cheeks, I delivered Plymouth-Salem High School's graduation speech to the Class of 1994.  In the middle of it, I did the one thing that I had been

cautioned against doing.  The one thing that could ruin the whole operation.  You guessed it.

I cried.

I cried because, thus far, 1994 had been the best year of my life, and I couldn't imagine how it could ever get better than that.  I cried because my speech spoke of living in the moment & experiencing real & true & raw emotions as you feel them.  I cried because I saw my Mom crying from the third row.  I cried because my Best Friend and I were going to different schools.  I cried because I was an idealist, a poet, a lover of words & emotions, someone who felt everything deeply & personally.  I cried because I was a 17-year old girl.  I cried because I had realized that happiness & sadness are so often two sides of the same coin.  I cried because I just couldn't stop myself.

And now, here we are, 20 years later.

I am no longer an idealist.  Years of education, both personal & academic, have made me into a realist.  And sometimes even a cynicist.  I don't write poetry anymore.  Instead I am a (sometime) blogger who takes her baby to bars.  My Best Friend did go to a different school, and she now lives in a different city.  And she's still my Best Friend.  (Yay, Katie!) I still consider 1994 one of the best years of my life....along with 1995, 1999, 2001, 2006, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2013, and 2014.  It did get better.  And better.  And even better after that.  Living in the moment is a challenge for me. It doesn't come naturally like it did when I was 17.  But I strive to be present, to be where I am when I'm there & drink in all the moments, both good & bad.  I will always be a lover of words & emotions.  But I don't wear my heart on my sleeve any longer.  I have become guarded, someone that holds my cards pretty close.  I prefer to ask questions & learn about others rather than share my own story.  (Although, with a few glasses of wine, I can usually be persuaded to spill.)  I still cry when I see my Mom crying.  But instead of embracing it, I usually try to convince her to stop.
And I still know that happiness & sadness are often two sides of the same coin.  And I think that's why I am crying now.

Hugs & love to the Class of '94.  Twenty years ago, I wished you lives that were experienced through joyful & wondrous eyes.  Today, I wish you another 20 years that just keep getting better.  And better.  And even better after that.

P.S.  Crying never ruins anything.  Except maybe your makeup.

This Is Where We Used To Live

At the end of an episode of Girls, Hanna is dancing on her own in her room when roommate Marnie comes home, finds her, and a roommate/BFF dance party immediately commences.  Which is clearly what would happen in real life.

I loved living alone, and of course, I love living with my family.  But when I think about some of the most fun, most hilarious & most memorable moments of my life, so many of them took place in grungy old apartments shared with some of my best girls.  As roommates, we became almost like sisters, closer & more honest.  When you live in as close of quarters as we did, there isn't a lot of room for anything less.  C'mon, let's go behind the scenes of when girls are roommates!

You will turn up the music really, really loud so you can't hear her fighting with her boyfriend. Even at 1am.  You will come home after work to find that an impromptu keg party has commenced, and they need a fourth for Euchre.  You will share everything:  shampoo, cigarettes, Doritos, secrets, money, toothbrushes, intimate details about your booty calls, clothes, modes of transportation.  If your boyfriend dumps you, she will come home with beer, wine, and ice cream - just because she wanted you to have options.  You will get pissed when she eats all of your leftovers that you were saving specifically for dinner that night.  But you'll forgive her when she pulls out some pot she scored that day.  You will have inside jokes that are so old & so complex, you won't be able to remember how they even got started.  But they will still be hilarious anyway. You will have no qualms about walking around naked in front of each other. You will laugh more than you ever thought possible.  You will make up a choreographed dance at 11pm on a Tuesday just because.  You will hear her having incredibly loud sex on a regular basis. And it won't faze you.  You will be there for each other during the big things, the scary things, the life-changing things. A good Monday night will be watching Lifetime Television for Women together while drinking White Zin and eating tuna noodle casserole. You will refer to you & your roommate as "we" and "us" more than often than you do with your boyfriend.  You will actually be more of a "we" and an "us" than you are with your boyfriend. You will agree on everything.  You will fight about everything.  You will feel sadness when you move out of that dirty little apartment because you'll know that it's the end of something.  But you'll also know that you're more than just friends now.  You're so much more than that.  

I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be Friends

Sometimes we have the good fortune of crossing paths with someone we just vibe with.  You know what I'm talking about, right?  We meet someone, and it's just easy.  Conversation flows so naturally right from the start that it feels like we're old friends.  We're clicking.  We're connecting. We're vibing.  It's incredible when this happens, right?  How lucky are we?  How fortuitous is it that out of all the people in the world, we have stumbled across each other?  We have found a kindred spirit, someone who just seems to inherently "get" us.  When this happens, it's one of my favorite things ever.

Sometimes when we meet one of these kindred spirits, we become close friends.  We keep vibing through the years, we will never, ever run out of things to talk about, not ever.  We will open another bottle of wine, and then another, just because we don't want the moment to end.  We can go weeks, months, even years without seeing each other, but when we are finally in the same room again, it feels like balance has been restored in our worlds.  We just make sense.   

And sometimes when we are very lucky, we marry our kindred spirits.  

Other times, we only have the opportunity to vibe with each other for a night or maybe a weekend. We somehow know that our connection has an expiration, so we must soak up every second.  We stay out too late, we talk all night, we must fit in every conversation we would ever have throughout our lifetimes into hours. Later on, the moment will have passed, our connection will have changed.  But we'll always have Paris. 

Sometimes we just have a sense about someone, a sense that given the right opportunity, the chance to talk, to share a moment, that we would be kindred spirits.  And sometimes it takes us by complete surprise.  We are blindsided by our new friendships.  But no matter how they happen, how they hit us, or for how long they last, these are the connections, the people, the moments, that make this life so delicious.  Drink them in. 

And if you're reading this post, and you think I might be talking about you, you should know that I absolutely am.