They say 50 is the new 40.

I’ve been hearing that more and more lately as my half-century mark is winding down its tenure. Most of my friends are saying it with a kind of trepidation in their eyes, a hopeful “please don’t freak about this – you’re not going to freak about this, are you?” sense of panic lingering just behind their encouraging smiles. Most of my friends are younger than me, because their children are friends with my children, and I started … late, let’s call it.

The truth is, I have been kind of freaking out about this. It simply doesn’t seem accurate. I remember clearly when my mom was this age, and I remember it clearly because I was pushing 30 myself. In contrast, my oldest child is pushing puberty. Our combined hormones could generate enough power to light a small town. And I’m happy when I remember his name.   […]