I do not run from aging.
I have waited rather impatiently for the feeling that I have officially entered into adulthood.
I long to know instantly which choices will catapult me forward in the direction of all-knowing and leave me with a sense of Universal understanding and rightness.
Yet, when I look into the mirror and see a face that is over 30, and a head with several strands of silver hidden by a careful part of the hair, I am surprised.
I am starting to get the drift that there is no magic awakening that occurs simply with age.
When will I get there, then, I wonder? If I get there at all.
Most days I feel like the decisions I make in raising my family are smart, and right, and good.
Some days I think my head is going to come exploding apart and the children will do no more than to stomp what is left of me into the meticulously cleaned laminate floor beneath their feet.
It is up to me to put my head back together and clean up the messes of mothering, and of life's many disasters and also, most importantly, life's celebrations.
When my mother was my age she seemed to have it all figured out, but I know she would say that is not true. Maybe that is the trick- making it look like you know what you're doing when in all honesty you are scrambling through, doing the best you know how to do.
If that is the case, I have arrived.
I am here.