I got a new sign for my birthday. It is a bright yellow diamond with a silhouette of a cougar warning of crossings. Not because I’m a BYU alum. Yes, I went to Happy Valley U for a few semesters. Don’t be shocked. I did get pregnant and it was not a Virgin Mary immaculate conception, there was a penis and ejaculation involved. I also opposed every question my Book of Mormon professor ever asked. I even paid higher tuition for being a heathen. I have an entire blog entry for that part of my life for a later post.
I have a cougar crossing sign because I just turned 40! I can no longer pretend like I am a bobcat. If I even look at a boy younger than twenty-eight I have to growl. But then again, if he excites me I can purr. A cat is a cat, no matter how big or how small, or how young or how old. Right?
Honestly, I don’t mind being the big 4 0. I remember driving in my car and listening to a radio personality interview a caller. She was talking about how she was 20 and her 40 year old mother was complaining about some loud concert they went to together. Out loud I mocked the old mother and said if she was that old she shouldn’t be going to concerts. My little first grade passenger quickly did the math and asked, “Mom, won’t you be 40 when I’m 20?”
I wanted to eject her from the passenger seat! Damned that accelerated program!
This is the child that I took to a Garth Brooks concert when she was 2! With tickets that I bought from a scalper outside of the Delta Center while holding her on my hip. The same child that went to see The Backstreet Boys because I slept out for tickets in the rain. How ungrateful! But I have to admit, hearing that interview made a 40 year old mom with a 20 year old kid sound really old!
It was all relative. When I turned thirty and had an eleven year old I didn’t feel old at all. It turned into my story and my life. Age is what you make of it.
Now I am forty. My daughter threw me the best birthday party ever! A Chinese theme celebrated the fact that I always promised myself I would go to China when I turned forty. All of my friends and family helped me celebrate the new decade, including Spermy and his family. It was perfect.
I might be forty with a twenty year old bride to be, but life couldn’t be better. I can take vacations with my friends without worrying about a babysitter. My daughter can run to the grocery store, and next year, the liquor store! We both obey curfew for each other, but don’t question where we were.
People think I should be honored when others ask or think that we are sisters and not mother and daughter. I used to say I was going to start calling Kyky my sister so that I seemed younger. Then I would joke that I either had to become her sister or start lying about my age and by so admitting that I was a teenage slut. People can do math. I was 18 when I got pregnant and 19 when I delivered. There are only so many years that you can deduct before it becomes unbelievable.
Truth is, I got pregnant too young. Could I have made other decisions? Of course I could have. Did I want to? NO. I am proud to be a young mom. I think I have done a great job. I have a best friend that throws me great parties. I have a close relationship with my daughter. Could I really want more?
I lived my younger years as a mom. My older years are mine. I’m going to find adventure whether it is alone, with a friend or with a partner. It doesn’t really matter. Life has been good so far, it can only get better.