Maybe...

This March is the year that I turn forty years old.  How in the hell did that happen?  I don't think it's possible that I have been alive for that long.  Do I look that old?  How old is forty supposed to look anyway?  Was I supposed to do something monumental and amazing by now?  This is what has happened so far...

birth
heart surgery
chicken pox
elementary education
found friends
broken arm
mono
dance team co-captain
trials and tribulations of first boyfriend
higher education
met lifelong friends
the Kennedy Center
Chicago
more trials and tribulations of boyfriends (not as tear jerking as the first one due to personal growth)
money woes
cats and dogs
love
marriage
travel in the US
Paris
two babies in baby carriages
rural life
cancer

That's about it.  Is there supposed to be more?  I see so many gals my age on TV flaunting it and being successful when they write a book on pureeing veggies and hiding it in their kids' brownies or that they started a roundtable discussion group on their kid's autism/cancer/ADD that is taking the world by storm.  Some days I sit here folding yet another basket of laundry and wonder...what should I be doing?  I'm turning 40.  I should be doing something, something artistic or empowering...

• Maybe I'll do a photography book on kids with cancer and their siblings/homeless people and their pets/everyday moms like me and their amazing kids.
• Maybe I'll form a group that empowers kids with cancer to keep living their lives to the fullest.
• Maybe I'll turn this farm into something more than what it is right now.

Maybe is an interesting word.  It hangs out there just waiting for someone to turn it into something.  Maybe can be the future.

I have learned some things that are certain over these past forty years...

• driving the speed limit does conserve gas.
• having a husband that kisses you goodbye every morning and who makes you laugh is what's most important.
• Italy and Hawaii aren't going anywhere, I don't need to get there RIGHT NOW.
• being able to count your true friends on your hands is more important than having an array of acquaintances that are innumerable, but never really there for you.
• creating food from scratch is very uplifting, even when it doesn't turn out quite right. 
• judging others only makes you look sad and weak.
•  it's okay to be snooty about what kind of movies you like or what kind of beer you drink.
• your kids may be loud and have Nutella on their faces which is then smeared all over the walls and on the rug and on the cat, but boy, they are a hoot to watch.  They are only small for a short time. Watch their personalities emerge and smile.

Forty isn't happening until the end of March.  I have some time to ponder over what has been, what is and what the possibilities are.

I can turn that maybe into something...stay tuned.