So I turned
40.
And I have a lot of mixed feelings about this.
There is something *disturbing* about leaving my third decade of life behind and entering my fourth. For one, the realization that there is a good chance I won't be adding another four decades to my life, that from here on out every day lived is one day closer to the end. On the other end, there is liberation in that. The waiting for *life to really begin* is over. The here and now MUST be the here and now, life needs to be lived NOW (and not later, at a more convenient time). No more wishing for do-overs and second chances. No more holding my breath for things to change or get better.
The past 6 years (well, really the past 10 or so years), have been *challenging* (understatement.. LOL). A little over 11 years ago, less than a month away from my 29th birthday, I gave birth to Salamander. And oh, was I clueless. I was so arrogant, so self absorbed, such a *yuppie*. I was simply gonna fit this child into all the other oh, so incredibly *important* stuff I was doing. Really, how hard could this whole working woman with child stuff be, right? After all, I was gonna have daycare right on site where I worked? And all little babies do anyway is sleep, right?
WRONG. As I said.. clueless..
My pregnancy with Salamander was easy.
Labor, delivery & the aftermath? Not so much. I truly cannot remember much of the first 3 months after Salamander was born. And sometimes I think I'd like to forget the next 10 months after that. Eighteen hours out of every 24, screaming bloody murder, *colic* (looking back? sign of much worse things to come...).
Raising and loving Salamander has been more rewarding, challenging, frustrating, depressing, exhilarating, life altering, exhausting, more "sending me from the highest ranges of bliss to the deepest bowels of hell in a split second", than I ever imagined possible...
Potatey entered the fray about 1.5 months shy of my 34th birthday. Poor kiddo arrived at a time when things were escalating with Salamander.. and not in a good way. Potatey, in so many ways, has been my anchor to sanity. My benchmark, if you will, that whatever was/is going on with Salamander wasn't due to my inept parenting, wasn't due to some maternal defect or deficiency, wasn't due to me 'doing it all wrong, being all wrong'.
Over the past 6 years I have fought an all out war (overt, covert and frequently guerrilla style, one friggin' little *landmark* at a time) for Salamander's soul and well being (and for the past 3 years I have fought for Potatey's well being just as hard).
And I can now, with some confidence, say that I am winning that war, that Potatey will be just fine, that Salamander is ever so slowly moving towards *remission* from whatever it is that is ailing him.
I recently wrote a summary narrative for Salamander - where we were in August of 2006 (in another crisis), and where we are now. It truly is amazing how far he has come. I cannot yet share that narrative here as it is being considered for inclusion in a book (and that is
all I can say for now).
Both boys are doing well, they are doing really well.
It's been a hard fought war. It's taken well over $130,000, countless hours of treatments and therapies, many sleepless nights, many hours of research, and much blood, sweat, poop, pee, vomit, screaming, heat butting, high fevers, biting, spitting, kicking, face slapping and so on to get to where we are now. And I DO consider myself lucky. There are many folks out there who spend twice, no three times as much, have done three times as much, and who haven't been able to realize even a third of the progress my boys have made.
So my 40th birthday finds me blessed, blessed beyond measure that my boys are doing well, that things WILL work out for them.
This birthday also finds me exhausted beyond measure, a bit cynical, and more than a tad disheartened and disillusioned. I have learned the hard way that for many people "for better and for worse, in sickness and in health" are just pretty phrases.. things that just roll out of your mouth, but that don't mean a damn thing. And while trust and patience have always been hard for me, they are most definitely NOT my strongest assets anymore.
Not many of the people I celebrated my 30th birthday with 10 years ago have stuck around. I'll admit that I pushed some away - out of self defense and self preservation perhaps. But many more ran, no sprinted, for the nearest exit - goes right back to that pretty phrase I just mentioned. On the flip side, the folks that stuck around, and the many new friends I've made while riding the Roller Coaster Ride from Hell, are in my life because they truly WANT to be.
A dear friend wrote me a few days ago: "Remember, babe. Life is what you muck'n' fake of it." Well, I've done a lot of muck'n and fakin over the past decade, and I'm prepared for having do to plenty more. I do think however there needs to be more room, that there now IS more room for what -I- want.
As to where to go from here? I truly don't have a (mucking..LOL) clue. I am obviously at a crossroads of some sorts - I am involved (both professionally and personally) in several things that could turn out to be life altering. But contrary to my usual "jump in, take over and wrestle this thing to the ground" approach, I am choosing to *hang back, float along and see what happens*. It's a very different way of being for me, but I find that it's agreeing with me.
Time will tell eh? Will be interesting to read back over this blog post 10 years from now...
Cheers!!
