Two Times the Fun (and Then Some): age

Sunday, August 13, 2017

You Have Arrived.

Colonial Williamsburg.

Jamestown Settlement and Powhatan Village.

The American Revolution Museum at Yorktown.

Traveling backward and forward in time as we visited living history museum after living history museum exhausted our feet and filled up our brains. We learned new things and reinforced previous understanding by walking the streets and encampments and engaged the people around us in conversation.

I think smoke was coming out of the boys' ears. And there might have been an incident or two of total breakdown and rolling on the floor.

It was time to stop. To decompress. To process through all the information of the past days. And there is no place better to unwind than at the beach.

So we plugged the address into my GPS and waited for that red target to appear and the voice to let us know, "You have arrived."

We not only arrived at an adorable purple cottage with a little slice of heaven just steps past the back door, we arrived at the perfect spot to just sit. To be together and to enjoy each other after days of pressure and agendas.

We arrived at a place where a kid doesn't have to worry if he is allowed to touch. Or to laugh too loudly. Or run.

The kids had arrived.

And at 40+ I've finally arrived at a place in my life where I don't care.

For the first time since the twins were born I put on my bikini.

And not the one with the cute retro high waisted bottoms.

I put on my bikini because I'm 6'1", dang it, and one pieces don't even fit me that well and I'm tired of picking my bathing suit out of my crack. I put on my bikini because tankinis kind of drive me nuts, the way they flutter up around my middle when I'm actually in the water.

I put on my bikini because I'm tired of believing that stretch marks, extra skin, and a "broken" belly button are things that need to be hidden. This is my body. And it is a body that stretched and grew 3 babies -- 2 at the same time, for goodness sake. And if I can't admit that 15 pounds of twins growing inside me might have stretched out the skin on my stomach and left me with an outtie rather than an innie, well, that's just dumb.

I put on my bikini because it's important for me to believe that my body is normal. That my body is nothing to be ashamed of. And it's important for my boys to know that, too. Normal is not what they will grow up seeing on TV and in the magazines. Normal comes in all shapes and sizes. Reality ages and gets stretched out.

This is what reality looks like. In a bikini.

I have arrived.

(But not quite at the place where I will be posting a photo of myself in a bikini online)

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Forty.

Yikes.

According to some, I am now officially "over the hill." Although, there appear to be several other proverbial hills that I will hopefully have the honor of going over along this crazy journey called life.

So, I am standing here at the precipice of this hill. And I have to say, I am enjoying the view.

Behind me are years of insecurity and self-discovery, years of sleepless nights and dirty diapers.

Ahead of me I see miles and miles of not caring as much if I am cool or fashionable or liked. I see the confidence to let loose and just be me. I see a light on the horizon as my children grow into young men who are both capable and independent. As they grow, so will I. I will once again have a little time and energy to devote to my own interests. I can even bask in the fact that for now at least, the munchkins need me less and less but still like to have me around. It's a glorious balance.

Once upon a time FORTY seemed like an impossibly large number. That I would be OLD. That the best years of my life would be behind me.

But from what I've tasted of 40 so, it's pretty sweet. In fact, it has hints of coconut and rum.