and so this is 40

Today I am 40. 
Is it ok if I examine myself a little more carefully today? 
I typically share pop culture nonsense that excites me or parenting fuck-ups on this blog, so this is a veering deep dive into my head and heart if you'd like to read.

I still LOVE sleeping. On a child-free weekend I have to set the alarm to wake up before 10AM. I love sleep with my whole soul.

I kept all my maternity underwear. The ones I bled into and through when I was clench-jawed waddling through my post-natal "your vagina is basically an open wound" weeks. All of 'em. I push them aside to get to my daily underwear.

I can eat when I'm not hungry. I can eat a lot at anytime, anywhere, anything. Food will always calm me down and be my greatest dangerous friend.

On a wooden or lino floor, if I'm in socks I still scoot across it at the end of my path. Step and sliiiide to the fridge. Step and sliiide to the front door.

Not for lack of trying, the only mirror selfie I have ever liked of myself is at the bottom of this post.

I finally can look at myself in the mirror in a public bathroom. I was always paralyzed and angst-ridden to ever attempt it. I couldn't look at myself and look at my hair and my face and my eyes and mouth and fix, wipe, clean or plump any of it. My heart would race and I would start to sweat. I MADE myself do it this year.

Nothing ages you faster than losing touch with music. That doesn't mean you will love every new song on the charts, but stay curious about new musicians.

I lost 80 pounds a few years ago and I have gained it all back. I have had a hard time loving myself this year and that struggle is visible all over me. I am not okay with it. I want to scream at how difficult this summer was with my thighs, and my stomach and ripe cheeks. I mostly want to sob because it was so hard to just get started last time and why (HOW) did I do this to myself ALL over again? 

I feel loved by SO many people and I know some people don't love me at all and I am 100% ok with both of these truths.

I just bought a holographic belly bag with THRASHER written on it and I am so fucking excited to wear it.

Being seen as cool and fuckable enthralls me.

Being late terrifies me.

Nobody in the world loves me as much as my Mom, because nobody else still reminds me to "chew carefully."

Ignoring someone is the cruelest thing humans do to each other.

Even though I have gone to great lengths to never critique anyone's body (including my own), in her presence, Stella knows the word "fat" and has used it to describe her body parts and that makes me immeasurably upset and disappointed.

I am still scared of anything new. Places, people, tasks, routes - all terrify me. I do it, try it, go there and smile, but on the inside my guts are churning.

The hardest thing I have ever done is admit I am not as good a friend or partner as I thought I was.

The second hardest thing I have ever done is get on stage for 10 minutes and tell jokes I wrote. When strangers laugh at your jokes, it is what I imagine heroin feels like.

I don't know how to properly grocery shop for my family to ensure we eat well all the time.

If you don't properly communicate with the people you love, you will lose them.

I have more grey hair than brown hair which is so weird because my Mom does not which she might have told me a few million times.

For the first time in my life I don't have a vehicle and I don't miss it AT ALL. I have wasted YEARS of my life worrying about the verdict from a mechanic about "a weird noise when I turn the wheel like this."

I use the Charmin wet wipes I buy for my kid's butt as make-up remover wipes.

I'd rather spend money on candles than food.

I won't ever read all the books on my shelves.

I still spend a lot of time being jealous. 

I like to be first. 

I like to know things first. 

I like to connect people.

I am comfortable with shouting and celebrating in a Rocky-esque fashion after running to the top of a hill.

I love everyone in my life right now. This wasn't an easy place to get to, but it was 1,000,000 worth the trip.

I would like to be okay if I never write a book or become known to people outside my small patch of the world. That thought also makes me really sad and scared. Is it settling to just be me?

I carry my daughter from her bed to the kitchen table every morning because she is my only child and even though I can't do a burpee right now, I can easily shoulder her warm, half-asleep dead weight down the hallway. I want to parent her as my one and only, just in case she is. 

I will always love bangs.

I will always hate high heels.

I will always love having a safe space online where I can crack it all open a little.

Today I am 40, and maybe tomorrow everything will hurt and break, but today everything feels just fine.

and so this is 40 - missteenussr.com.JPG