ROUND TWO

It's almost here, less than six months away and I'm somewhat terrified. Never has a birthday loomed so ominously.  Twenty-five was a bit rough though I can't exactly recall why - something to do with getting old.  I suppose, back then, twenty-five was old to me.  Then thirty came around...I was so pregnant I couldn't even think straight and gave birth four days later.  The rest of my thirties was about planting roots, getting to know my community, new found friends and more babies. I didn't blink an eye at thirty-five.  There was no time.  

So what's my problem?  Forty is HOT! The terms "Milf" and "Cougar" must have come from somewhere, right?  But, let's get out of the shallow end of the pool for a minute.  It's not just about looks - it's about confidence, spirit, wisdom and maturity.  I stare over at an issue of More magazine sitting on my nightstand.  Candace Bushnell, the Sex in the City author who happens to be married to a man eleven years her junior (good for her!), has a cougar complex and Robin Wright Penn is turning forty-three and feeling fierce and fearless.  I can look inside and find the country where women look younger and learn all their beauty secrets (Japan, I peaked).  Where did this magazine come from?  I guess I picked it up somewhere along the way as I do almost fit the demographic.

I browse through the pages nonchalantly, like I don't care -like I'm really turning thirty and none of this applies to me.  There a some decent stories, inspirational-always my favorite kind. Two women started clothing and stationary businesses close to forty and are now millionaires. Robin is "wright" where she wants to be and Candace is vehemently defending her right to be with the love of her life, no matter his age. Screw the double standard.

I think about two women in Florida I heard of, one a sixty something barefoot waterskier, the other an eighty something slalom champion who still practices three hours a day.  I think about my amazing Aunt Jessie, who as a widow found the second love of her life in her early eighties. Now, there are certain places I don't want to go, but she did tell me she felt like a teenage school girl when she spent time with her "Marsh" (a.k.a Marshall).  I look at my Mom who takes such good care of herself that people often mistake her for my kids' mother, instead of their Grandmother.  She's not too quick to correct them either.  When the wheels start turning I suppose I could go on and on and pick a plethora of inspiring women from the forties, fifties and sixties set and beyond.  Adventurers, entrepreneurs, philanthropists, mothers, advocates, artists, students, women I know, and some I've only read about or seen on TV. And of course, there are friends who will be taking the journey with me as they too navigate through the second part of their lives.

Parenting is and always will be my top priority.  So far it's been an amazing, beautiful, sometimes difficult, surprising journey.  It never fails to delight and challenge every part of my being.  But my kids are getting a tad older now and I'm getting that itch, have had it for a while, and feel this need to break out of suburbia.  My book is done.  So I applied to a writing class at NYU (needed to submit five manuscript pages to apply) and was accepted.  I'm going to go for it.  Can't wait to be in Manhattan once a week, meet new people, gather some inspiration and get some feedback on this book.

When I was in college, I was fortunate to have an opportunity to study abroad in Europe.  I enjoyed the first part of the experience a lot but the best part really came half way through when I realized I'd be going home sooner than later.  All my senses became alive and heightened as I realized I didn't want to miss a darn thing that this great opportunity had to offer.  I left feeling like I'd taken full advantage of that trip as passionately and as thoroughly as I possibly could have.  Now, here I am on the cusp of the second part of this life.  I hope to make it too a passionate, thoroughly lived trip drawing inspiration from all the amazing women who are more than half way through theirs.

Maybe forty is not so scary.  I may not be able to eat whatever I want anymore but I haven't been able to do that for a while now. Besides, eating is overrated.  No, I take that back.  It's so not.  And hopefully the big 4-0 is not either.

A BOOK, A PRAYER, SOME GRATITUDE AND HOPE

Woe is me. My book is coming to a close. It's hard to let things go that are with you for a long time. Even when we are not paying attention to or neglecting those things, they still become a part of us. Sometimes we know the end must come but we stall because we are not ready to let go, not sure of how things should end and when to let them end before they become stale or overdone. And when you come to really care about something and put yourself out there for it by taking risks, making sacrifices and finding time for it, you want it to end correctly, gently and as it is meant to.

So now with a sense of sadness, relief, wonder, growth and accomplishment I am doing just that, letting go, wrapping this baby up and moving on. At one point, I wasn't sure I'd get here, but alas, I really have.

But what next? I have at least ten more books in me but I'd also like to again start contributing financially to our household, as was always my intention when the kiddos got a little bit bigger. And while writing is fulfilling and gratifying I'm not sure how long it will be before it actually turns a pay check. So, in the meantime, do I get job? Go back to school? Start a small business? As career ADD started messing with my mind a few nights ago well after midnight, I started to over think. Everything. And then I started to feel sorry for myself. For a minute. Because then a recent news story popped into my head, one I can't seem to shake.

It is the haunting story of Euna Lee and Laura Ling, the two U.S. journalists reporting for Current TV who were recently tried and sentenced in Pyonyang to twelve years hard labor in a North Korean prison camp. Apparently no appeal is possible as the women were tried by the Nations high court. Yesterday they said the women admitted to a smear campaign against the communist state. I shudder to think how they got that "admittance." The Obama administration will continue to work diligently to secure their release. In the meantime, they are stuck. In volatile North Korea. A defiant country that recently conducted nuclear testing with a bomb the Russians say was a large as Hiroshima. Then more missile tests leaving global powers in debate as how to deal with them. It's a delicate time for U.S. officials to be negotiating the return of two Americans with a country with which we have limited to no relations.

Euna Lee has a four year old daughter at home waiting for her, crying for her, asking her father when her mother will return. She may not see her mother again until she is sixteen. Facing torture, inadequate food supply, squalor, and twelve hour days of back breaking labor in the notoriously brutal North Korean prison system, these girls and their families will be in hell until we can get them home. If we can get them home.

My thoughts then drifted to the other prisoners serving out their sentences as I wondered how many of their crimes fit such grave and ghastly punishment. It was late at night and my mind couldn't settle. I became immediately thankful for the softness and comfort of our bed, the food downstairs in the fridge and my three children soundly sleeping in their rooms.

Woe is me? Not so much. What's next? I'll be working on that.

In the meantime I will pray for Euna Lee, Laura Ling, their families and their safe and timely return.

SOMETHING TO REMEMBER

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain

This quote has presented itself to me three times in the last week or so, randomly. It's too good not to share.

SO CLOSE

People have been asking me as of late what is going on with the book. February was not a great writing month...three family birthdays, Valentine's Day (busy for all Mothers with small school age children), winter break and heart surgery for my Dad did not make for a very productive month. I thought I'd found a glorious hour in the middle of the day last week. Fifteen minutes later I was having a feasty snack of barbecue potato chips and ice pops in my daughter's fort - a snow covered mass of bushes with a cozy little opening underneath. Just as I sat down with my tea and laptop and had her set up for after school quiet time she reminded me of my our promised fort time. So there I sat, not willing to forego promises for writing.

So now that it's March, I've started getting up early again. The only thing missing from my book is an ending - then lots of revisions and editing. OMG! I've since had a million ideas for other books, both fiction and non-fiction. One won't leave my brain. I'm getting impatient with this book now. I need it done. My personal deadline is two months away. I'm getting there. And it's time to move on.

I'm getting impatient with this blog too...so many things going on out there - would rather be writing about them than myself and my book at this point. And after almost a year I'm glad to be realizing these things. It's been a process, a journey as anything worth its salt should be.

AND THE EARTH MOVED

We are having a real winter - plenty of snow, cold, ice and freezing rain to make it feel like this season should be well on its way out - and I happen to love the snow. But ask any Mom - especially those of youngsters - and they will surely confide to feeling cooped up, frustrated and germophobed after stomach bugs, strep throat, flues, fevers and ear infections invade their homes, this despite countless applications of anti-bacterial gels to a fault - think dried out hands and something to the theory that overusing that stuff makes the bugs that much stronger. As one friend puts it "she is going out of her freakin mind." Yet after we all complain, we are quick to remind ourselves that things could be worse as we count our blessings and clutch at as many good vibes as we can muster. But yeah, the doldrums are upon us.

So, when something exciting happens, it feels especially thrilling right about now. Last night after putting my oldest, my son, to bed I finally settled into my own bed with a book. Just as I let out that sigh that comes after the day is done and everyone is settled, I heard a big loud noise come from somewhere. For goodness sake (or maybe something not so girl scoutish) I thought in frustration....what is he doing now??? But it wasn't him and my husband was already asleep. I was too tired to go downstairs and check. So I let it go. Well, this morning I learned I'd just experienced my first earthquake. Ironically, the book I was reading with my son was all about natural disasters and we'd spent the last five minutes of our time together talking about....you guessed it......earthquakes! Wow. I wasn't sure what was more exciting, the earthquake or the coincidence.

We don't live on fault line here, so it was just a natural shift of the earth at a mild 3.0 on the Richter scale. I wrote a good scene early this morning. Exciting. I experienced my first earthquake. Exciting. Don't laugh at me. It's February, early February and I can use all the excitement I can get.

WHERE THIS IS GOING

Somebody once said, if you're not sure what to do just do something anyway. If it's not the right thing, it will more than likely lead you to the right thing. Being complacent will get you nowhere.

Flashback to senior year of high school. My jock boyfriend was captaining something and I needed an after school Spring sport. I was always a fast runner so I decided to join track (much to the snickering of some of my friends as it wasn't exactly the coolest sport). But I didn't care. I figured I'd be a sprinter, get myself in shape for college in the fall (at 18 and under 115 lbs. did I really think I needed to get in shape?!) and have some fun. I did alright during practice runs and was ready for my first big race. I was all decked out in my track outfit, had my sneakers tied up tight, did all my stretching and watched as the girls from Newark, our opposing team, entered our field. They looked very serious and very athletic and barely acknowledged us. They are just trying to use intimidation I thought to myself - not an uncommon practice, right? But a slight sinking feeling entered my belly as my instincts told me we were in trouble. Needless to say, all those fifty yard dash scores I was so proud of (beating boys and all) didn't mean a darn thing. I got my butt kicked that day. And I got it kicked again and again and again. My boyfriend told me he was going to skip out of baseball practice early to watch me at my next meet. I was mortified as I hadn't yet confided that I was not the track star I was meant to be.

Finally, after learning the hard way that you simply cannot sprint your butt off at the beginning of a 400 meter race - which I did flying ahead of everyone convinced I was finally going to win something only to hit the "wall" in which you can barely jog as everyone just passes you by like you're an annoying mosquito in the way -my coach sat me down and told me short distance running was not my thing (gulp, can you say humble pie?). Why don't you try the mile he suggested. A mile of running fast to win? If I couldn't compete on the short distances how could I ever possibly win a race that long? He told me to trust him and that I had it in me, it's a different kind of running.

Fine. I figured it couldn't get any worse than what was already happening. We only had two meets left and during the first one I actually placed. I beat some of the seasoned milers on my own team and I wasn't jelly legged and bone tired when it was over. Coach was right and I got to end the season on a high note. I even let my boyfriend watch me. I finally felt truly competitive again.

Writing this book has been somewhat similar. Sometimes I feel like I'm pushing it ahead and getting nowhere, other times the slow steady pace feels just right as the story ebbs and flows at just the right tempo. And plenty of times I feel like it is leading somewhere else, into territory I hadn't really considered, hadn't really fathomed. One thing is for certain though -- I'm not sprinting (or steadily running) in any direction until this sucker is done.

DREAM ON

So what about dreams during times like these? When I started writing my book one of my intentions was, I'm not going to lie, big bucks. I had ski houses, beach houses, exotic trips and financial freedom on the brain. That was then.

Now, when I think about where this journey started and where it is ending it's a whole different story. Writing this book has become less about money, success and notoriety and more about fulfilling something internal, the stamina to finish something (something big) and owning something other than an impressive or fun possession. Is it going to be a big money maker? Doubtful (but maybe the next?). Seriously though, just tapping into something and creating a book with characters full of emotions, experiences, dreams and disappointments has been an exhilarating process...so new for me and so much fun. And, I've been lucky enough to find the time to do it - even when it hasn't been easy.

Meanwhile, more hard times continue to surround us here in the New York metro area...dreams, hobbies and quests for finding life's passion are being replaced by one big reality check...like being laid off or taking a mega pay cut while trying to make ends meet in one of the country's most expensive and highest taxed states -- a reality for many of our friends. The severity of the situation runs the gamut from friends literally selling their gold to buy their kids' Christmas presents to others who are rethinking private schools and cleaning ladies. And no matter what end of the economic stratosphere people are coming from, it's hard and it's an adjustment. Even Brett Favre, who resided nearby during the Jet's football season, reportedly said of this area that it's too damn expensive. Um, are you kidding me? Isn't he a millionaire?

Now, jobs are harder to replace, housing values remain questionable and the stock market nose dive nightmare has yet to abate. People are tightening their belts and getting back to basics. For one artist friend this means her mad midnight painting and dreams of a psychology masters are on hold. She instead is managing a local store while her recently laid off husband seeks work. And for an artist (nothing against artists) she remains pragmatic saying "these times are the greatest gift to all of us." Somewhat hard to swallow but not necessarily untrue. She no longer has too much free time on her hands "to over think." And though her world is filled with uncertainty right now, you can't help but notice a glimmer of focus, purpose and contentment that seems to shine through when she talks about it all.

Other dreams I've heard like opening a small wine shop in a beach town, or writing the next truly great American novel, getting into politics or simply just going out to lunch when the all the kids are finally in school (instead of finding part time work) are all also on hold for a little bit longer.

Yet, even within all this reality and back to basics mentality, I believe there is still plenty of room for dreams - for ourselves and for our children. Our dreams are who we are and evolve as we do. Martin Luther King started out with a dream and now, on the eve of this historic inauguration, look where we are. You have a big job Mr. Obama.