I don't know why I like numbers so much but I do.
How many days of school until Winter Break? (15).
How many miles have I run this week? (3).
How many books have I read so far this year? (43).
How many states have I visited? (49).
I drive Paul crazy on road trips telling him how many more miles and how many more minutes to our destination.
Teaching kindergarten was perfect because we counted just about everything. Multiples of 10 were a big deal and we dedicated a full day celebration on the 100th day of school, complete with a visit from Zero the Hero. Elementary school: one place a grown adult woman in her forties can dress up in a cape and mask.
I'm partial to multiples of 5 and I get slightly obsessive about odd numbers. I'll run up and down my driveway until my my mileage tracker reads 3.00. If there are nine items on my grocery list, I'll add "coffee" to round it off to ten. And because you can never have too much coffee.
It seemed only fitting that I come up with a number-oriented goal to reach by my 50th birthday. I crowdsourced for suggestions and came up with 25 ideas. Can we pause for a moment so we can all let that settle in? I made not one, not two, but 25 goals for my 50th birthday.
The first step is admitting you have a problem. Houston, we have a problem.
How did this happen?
My 20s were all about self discovery--who I am, who I love, and what do I want to be when I grow up. I graduated from college, married, and started my first teaching job.
In my 30s, I was busy creating my dream life. I had a house with a picket fence, two kids and a dog. I focused all my energy into my life as a stay-at-home mom extraordinaire for a few years until I returned to school part-time teaching kindergarten. I planned fun adventures. I planned healthy meals. I planned adorable, matching Halloween costumes.
And then, my 40s hit. I found myself back in the classroom full time and, instead of orchestrating my kids' activities, I became a spectator to their growing independence, shuttling them back and forth in a seemingly endless carpool loop. I spent most of my forties trying to give 100% to my teaching career, 100% to raising teenagers, 100% to my other relationships and 100% to myself. Now, you don't need to be a math genius to know it's impossible to give 400% of yourself, but that's what I kept trying to do. I somehow thought if I just could be more organized and more productive, it would all go according to plan. It didn't.
That's when I started this blog.
Writing was therapeutic. Sharing my stories helped me process and reflect, and reminded me to have a sense of humor. When a blog post resonated with a reader, I felt connected. Looking back at ten years worth of blog entries, I can see the themes of my forties emerge--work life balance, parenting teens, self improvement, and planning for adventure. There was so much I couldn't control, I focused on what I could...like how many items were on the grocery list. Recognizing these themes inspired me to compile some of my favorite essays into a sort of memoir of the last decade called There's Spaghetti On My Ceiling: And Other Confessions of a Reformed Perfectionist.
As I anticipate my fifties, I wonder what new themes will emerge. Parenting is no longer a full time job. Paul and I beginning to explore life as empty nesters. I'm happy with who I am and spending time with people I love.
Numbers: Twenty-five years ago, Cal Ripken Jr. played in his 2,131 game, breaking Lou Gehrig's record and eventually ended his streak at 2,632 games. At some point, you know when it's time to stop. So here we are, the 163rd blog post of my forties and the final post of A Grin, Some Grit, and a Bit of Grace. It's an odd number and one that held no significance until now. And I'm okay with that. I'm ready.
I'll keep writing in my fifties. Maybe I'll even start a new blog. I'm not sure yet. One of my goals is to make fewer goals.
