Is This A Mid-life Crisis? - Page 2
The cliche of men at midlife is that they start engaging in risky behaviors to beat back the spectre of death. My little adventures may very well be my version of danger - not to life and limb, but to that measly voice inside that says, "Not a good idea..." "Wait, you're not ready." "I wish I could, but I can't."
The "crisis" part of the term "mid-life crisis" is where I have a problem. With all its connotations of panic and emergency, "crisis" is not the right word for this period of my life. If anything, I'm experiencing a mid-life confidence, not the golden glowing kind of confidence born out of experience and wisdom, but a shabby-but-still-works one born out of ceasing to give a rat's you-know-what about stuff that doesn't matter.
So what if I make an ass of myself in front of the CJ Arthur crowd? So what if I'm a huge hit? I'm still going to be Mommy when I go home, Mommy who is desperately needed at dawn, run from without a glance when the school bus comes, snarled at when snacks are denied and tenderly clung to during bedtime stories. It's a role I love. One I'm in no hurry to leave, although I know its end, or at least change, comes eventually.
It's like that pretty song about growing old says, "As time goes by/Suddenly "oh why?"/Another blink of the eye/Sixty-seven is gone/The sun is getting high/We're moving on."
Now, what adventure is next?
Original post to Chicago Moms Blog. Read Cindy Fey at We All Fall Down.