Goodbye 30s

I can't bring myself to go to bed. When I wake up tomorrow, I'll be 40. I keep thinking that for as long as I can stay awake I'm still in my 30s. And so here I sit, trying to decide if I'm ready to take the plunge.

Silly, I know. I've always thought so. Just a number... doesn't mean a thing. And I stand by that.

But still.

My 30s has been such a rich, rich era. Getting married, being pregnant, having 3 gorgeous children, moving out of my beloved city, starting a business, buying a home, making it home. Growing up... a little. Aging for the first significant time. It's been a big decade. I don't know that I've paid it proper tribute just yet.

Ok, and I don't want to look 40.

But I suppose I'm more likely to look 40 by tomorrow if I don't take that plunge and go to sleep already.

Besides, I'm so damn curious. What could possibly be next!!

Skinny Mirrors

Those deceitful little buggers. Retailers know exactly what they're way around flattering angles and complementary lighting. Today, my elongated reflection persuaded me to purchase a considerable chunk of my fall wardrobe in Target when I was only there to stock up on Pull-ups and flushable wipes. Well, perhaps Target has a few tricks of it's own (I've managed to spend a small fortune there $5, $10, $20 at a time), but there is just something hypnotic about the almost sleek, nearly leggy reflection standing across from me in the dressing room. I find myself thinking "I'll take it", despite the certainty that my mirror at home has a harsher truth waiting for me.

But, you know, who cares? I guess, from one perspective, I may have been duped into buying something that may not be as flattering as I think. But on the flip side, no one is more critical of that reflection than me, so I may as well find the best reflection available and go with that. The problem is the inconsistency. What I really need is one of those damn mirrors at home. Hell, maybe one above my bed.

Walking around all day in that delusion doesn't sound half bad to me.

The Good Life

Today I took my 4 year old shopping for a "fairy wedding dress". She picked out a puffy pink one and a matching one for her sister and they spent the afternoon twirling around the house casting spells until their big brother came home to play hide and seek.

Tonight he read them Dr. Suess books before they went to bed.

This is the life.

I love that kid

It's a think I find myself thinking all the time. And it's often sparked by the most unexpected details of my day.

I never imagined that an unflushed poop, a rolled up sock in the corner or even a piece of bagel wedged in to my couch could arouse such affection and put a smile on my face. But sometimes those are precisely the things that shed light on my blessings. My life is literally full of surprises. And reminders... that I'm lucky enough to have these pure little spirits in my life. And while there are plenty of days when these little details mean work and aggravation to me, tonight the crumbs on my floor and the tiny fingerprints all over my stainless steel appliances tell me that my home is alive with happy children.

There's never been a better reason for chaos and clutter. Lucky, lucky me.

The MILK man strikes again

Sean Penn, that is.

I haven't even seen Milk yet, but I trust it will be brilliant, and that's enough to inspire me for now. It's next on my list.

I love to root for him. All of the brilliant dysfunctional disasters.. Beethoven, Hemingway, Poe, William Burroughs, Van Gogh... and on and on. I look at their lives and then I look at their work and I think to myself, "I have the social sophistication of a creative genius".

I may never get around to hosting a proper dinner party or keeping up with birthdays and thank you notes, but I can still become a legend.

The best kind of insomnia

I can't sleep. I know I'm exhausted and perhaps I'll be miserable tomorrow, but I can't stop replaying all my favorite scenes from this weekend. And I can't stop smiling. Reliving it makes me deliriously happy.

Our anniversary date has become one of my favorite days of the year. Dinner and a night in the city with Ross. A morning to sleep in and lounge and wander and write while he goes to his tai qi class. More wandering and indulging together. I savor every second of it and deny myself absolutely nothing. It's decadent. It's magical.

Time together. Time alone. Time downtown. My holy trinity.

It all just came together, as it always seems to when we have our night in NYC. A good hair day. A parking spot. A glass of champagne on arrival. Rose petals and chocolates in our room. A spectacular view. And those big, cozy bathrobes. But those are just the fun little details. And then everything becomes the fun little details. Colors bolder. Flavors richer. And is it just the "skinny mirror" in our room or did I even get better looking? Because my downtown excursions always seem to feed my favorite delusions of grandeur. Or maybe just awaken all my favorite parts of me and everything around me.

And so I'm awake. And I want to hold onto whatever this is. So I need to identify it quickly before I go to sleep! What is it that feels so magical? Well, certainly it's love. All weekend felt like being in love. And gratitude. Taking note of every blissful detail - nothing taken for granted. Creativity. Just soaking up inspiration from everything. And smiling. It just feels good. So that's the formula for my bliss. So simple.

I think I'll start using this recipe more often.