Forty and Blessed (not Fabulous)

April 2025

 

A big part of motherhood is documenting our children’s growth and milestones. But parents are growing and changing as well. This year was a big birthday for me: I turned 40.

 

When I was a kid, we went to a friend of the family’s 40^th birthday party. It was shiny black balloons and Over the Hill jabs everywhere you looked. But things have shifted since then, and the line “40 is the new 30” seems to have led to fewer black balloons and more sashes and banners sporting mantras like “Forty and Fabulous,” outlined with rhinestones rather than gravestones.

 

 

Despite our acceptance or fist shaking against the ticking of time, it passes.

 

 

Aging is something that we don’t just experience in isolation. Instead, we interact with others who witness our reactions to the aging process. I didn’t mind turning 40. We all get older every year, every day if we’re being technical about it. I don’t feel old, and I know age is just a number. But I also don’t feel young anymore, and maybe that’s just what happens. If I’m being honest, I don’t feel very fabulous either. Still, part of the way I can mother well is by not only showing my children how to lean into the age they mature into but also to model that in my own life.

 

 

It seems to me that aging with grace requires an ability to make it less about me personally (tallying what I’ve accomplished or left undone) and more about considering and accepting the bigger picture and how I fit into it in various life seasons. Being grateful rather than entitled is another part of aging that I’m still working on as well as hoping to pass down to my children. Something I knew I wanted to do this year was create a list of

40 Things I’m Thankful For

We all know the biggies that should make the list. But what about the minutia, the small comforts and habitual details easily taken for granted? I am eternally blessed and unable to adequately express thankfulness for Christ’s salvation, my family, and my health. But this list (in no particular order) is about the little things that surround us every day and eventually add up to a life:

 

 

1. A morning cup of coffee in a favorite mug
2. A perfectly indented pillow that knows the shape of my head
3. A lilac blossom, still on the branch
4. Opening my blinds each morning to welcome in the new day
5. The stretch my little boy performs when I wake him from sleep
6. The history that comes with having a pew at church
7. The curls that develop at the nape of my daughters’ neck
8. The blue jeans my husband loves to see me wear
9. The three songs we nightly sing to the kids at bedtime
10. Dangly earrings
11. The quiet of living at the end of a cul-de-sac
12. The memory of nursing my babies
13. Drinking hot chocolate out of tea pots after playing in the snow
14. The beauty of vocal harmony when there’s no sheet music to follow
15. The way my husband still reaches to hold my hand
16. Slippers on hardwood floors (any time of year)
17. The freedom to pray with my students in the classroom
18. Getting back on my yoga mat
19. Overalls or rompers
20. The “I Love You” sign in sign language
21. Ice at the bottom of a cup of soda or bubbly water
22. Reading with my children
23. The warmth of a heating pad
24. The crunch and saltiness of homemade popcorn
25. A botanical garden in bloom
26. Telling each other what we love about them during Valentine’s Day family dinner
27. Receiving a handwritten note or card
28. Seeing the spine of my new book sitting on the shelf
29. Freshly painted toenails
30. Friendships deep enough that I don’t have to deep clean the house
31. The fact that all my children still call me mama
32. Going on walks
33. A well-organized calendar
34. Lamp light
35. The robust yet peaceful sound of a played piano
36. Suntan lines in the summertime
37. The weekly sharing of the bread and the fruit of the vine
38. Friday night with the entire weekend ahead
39. The feel of a backpack/bookbag at the start of a new school year

 

Number 40 for me is feeling comfortable in my own skin.

 

Some do a big party for their 40^th, but for me, recognizing I don’t like being the center of attention or hosting big events and telling Ben I didn’t want a get together was freeing.  We didn’t need to celebrate a certain way. I was home with the kids because it was our spring break week, and we watched a musical (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang) and that night we went to Finley Farm (an old, restored mill that overlooks a beautiful river) to celebrate. We toured the mill because Ben knows I like that sort of thing, and I bought brass measuring spoons from the gift shop because I’ve always wanted some. Ben sent me flowers and had lunch delivered and friends and family sent special messages and gifts, and it all felt so curated to what I know about myself and what those who know me best know about me.

We even had big golden balloons, including a big inflated 4 and a mostly deflated 0.

 

 

 

Let me stop here and explain.  Ben had secretively bought special decorations. He bought a helium tank to fill up the number balloons, but he didn’t realize the 0 balloon had a hole somewhere in it until it was too late. Undeterred, he and my oldest found a way to hang it from a curtain rod, next to the other floating balloon. When I woke up my birthday morning and saw it, nothing could have better expressed all the things I felt about turning 40. It wasn’t fabulous and flashy, nor was it in the best shape possible. Nevertheless, it was still noteworthy and memorable.

 

 

And that’s how I feel about aging. There’s no point pretending I’m exactly the person I used to be. I’m not quite as adventurous, and despite Ben posting to social media that I “barely look over 20,” I know that I actually do, and that’s ok (though I love him for saying it.) Aging well doesn’t mean denying that it’s happening. It means being bendable rather than unyielding, humble enough to admit that the same thing every other human fortunate enough to live into midlife experienced will touch us too.

 

 

It’s also realizing that even though a lot of big moments may be behind us, there is still more to anticipate. For my 40^th, I asked for something that surprised me: curtains on our front windows. We have lived in our home for almost 14 years, and I’ve never wanted curtains. But suddenly, I wanted a little more softness, a little more texture, a little something different. And that’s what I hope to show my children about the unending passage of time we all experience.

 

It’s never too late to switch things up, to change our mind, to cultivate a new habit. We should know what we are about but still be flexible enough to pivot. At times, my sweet and simple life may appear a little more deflated than fabulous, but there is realness in it that chasing a prescribed image will never achieve. There is also beauty and softness, just like the vintage inspired curtains I didn’t know I’d want.

 

 

Photo credit for Forty and Fabulous: Amazon