As I sit here sipping coffee, smelling blueberry pancakes and looking at the birthday presents my kids made and wrapped, I can’t help but think I ought to be writing an inspirational post about what it’s like to be turning 49. Gasp!
I could write about 49 lessons learned in 49 years. That might be tricky since many of those lessons I didn’t get the first, second, or even third time, so that list could get pretty redundant.
I could write about being grateful that my mom is still here to make me what I want for my birthday dinner.
I could write about the surprise of my dad remembering my birthday, inviting me to lunch and suggesting that Jen and Will come along, too.
Or, I could mention the amazing growth I’ve experienced in the last few years, from learning all I can about narcissism and how that has helped the three of us.
I could write about how blessed the three of us are with old and new friends, wonderful extended family and the folks who read this blog and contribute to our learning and healing.
But while I’m sitting here waiting for Will to serve me a second pancake, smothered in butter and a splash of real maple syrup, I have to say that I’m wondering if there’s anything to this Rapture/End-Of-Our-Days stuff, that is supposed to happen tomorrow.
I can’t get beyond thinking….
Holy Shit! If this Rapture stuff is true, I won’t have to spend the whole next year agonizing about turning 50!
Woot!
Jenny can’t fall asleep unless she leaves her lamp on. (We’re working on that.) I usually wake somewhere in the night, stumble down the hall, reach over her sweet, eyelash-framed face and quietly turn off the lamp.
As I walked through Target looking for something to get the kids for Easter, I passed the poofy, over-the-top Easter Dresses. I remember getting a couple Easter Dresses for Jenny. 
Gawd!
I haven’t been in a hurry to get back to this place. My brain still feels like it’s coming off of a shot of novacaine. 
My grandma called it goulache (goo-lah-key). She didn’t use paprika like they do in a genuine Hungarian Goulash. My version is more of a whatever’s-in-the-kitchen-pantry variety. It’s a take on spaghetti sauce only the vegies are chunkier and the sauce is wetter. I always make a big batch so as to have some to put in the freezer. It’s great to have extra on hand for ski days or those days when I’m not wanting to go to the store, which happens to be just about every day. 
I walk by this chair multiple times a day. I’ve swept the dust bunnies of cat hair away from the rolled paper legs. I’ve straightened the legs after one of us has cut the corner too tight and clipped the edge of the chair on our way to the kitchen. Each time I walk by, I wonder what it might be like to be light enough to sit down on this delicate chair. 
