by Mrs J
My birthday is marked by a difficult transatlantic conversation with my parents: we are not returning to the UK this year as planned. I respond to my sister’s cheerful birthday email with the same, unwelcome news…
Along with a sense that the lives of my closest friends and family are passing me by while I am four thousands miles away, this year’s birthday marks the irrefutable onset of middle age…
…and possibly a midlife crisis.
After all, I can easily tick 10 out of 35 diagnostic boxes on personaltao:
1. Looking into the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself.
5. Unable to complete or concentrate on tasks which used to be easy.
7. Wanting to run away from everything.
11. Desire for physical -free flowing- movement (running, dance, fast red sports cars).
14. Sudden interest in drawing, painting, writing books or poetry.
16. Wondering about the nature of death.
17. Taking dietary supplements for the purposes of extending life.
19. Taking more time to look good.
28. Desiring a simple life.
31. Keep re-asking yourself: “Where am I going with my life?”
I know I am not alone in pondering the fundamentals in my life. My best friend contacts me to say she is ditching her job (No.2. ‘Desiring to quit a good job’ ), although we can all agree her career of 20 years has been no bed of roses.
So, life is a constant balancing act between commitments and fun. While I ‘sub’ at the last minute for a manically busy Mr J at Monday’s Daddies Breakfast – the only mum in a lunchroom full of dads – we do manage to keep our weekends free for having fun together.
There is nothing quite like a beach to keep our children happy (and happy kids mean happy parents) and so on our cycle ride around Amerson River Park we are delighted to find a secret beach, set back from the Ocmulgee river amongst the trees.
It is the perfect time of year to get out and about on our motley collection of bicycles (‘motley bicycles’ being a bonafide inherited trait). Yes, some things are cool when they are ‘vintage‘ – like Mr J’s classic American bicycle c.1947. So, perhaps one secret to ageing well is to accept and value one’s accruing history while still bravely looking forward.
As our son said rather philosophically this week, “I’m sorry, Daddy. It’s a confusing world that you weren’t born into.”
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