Forty is the new 30.

My kid sister and I stood in the driveway on a hot summer day. We waited for Mom to unlock the door to our 1982 brown Chevy Nova. She dug through her giant bag and rambled on about age, and how a person never really feels the age they are. 

"For instance..." her voice dragged along as she collected a thought to educate my ten-year-old mind. "I'm forty-two, and I still feel like I'm in my early thirties." She looked so pretty to me with her huge blonde perm and printed silk blouse. Yet all I could think is, "Forty-two....wow, my mom is OLD." 

I grew through my teens, then my twenties..always longing to be just a little older so I could drive a car, or get into a college bar, or be taken seriously, or finally have my own money. 

I turned thirty, and suddenly it all felt right; I am married (check!) I have a great job (check!) So this is when I have kids and build a nest. And so I did. And it was divine! For at least a few years, I lived in the present moment, checking the distance between my inside feeling and that outside number, and (CHECK!) they matched. 

Fast forward a decade. About six months before my 40th birthday, I started having these insane dreams. The most recurring on involved me riding in a speedboat with no driver. The boat would gain speed with every passing second, and I'd sit there watching as we headed directly toward a rocky beach. On that beach lay a Golden Buckeye Card, VHS tapes of Matlock re-runs, and a pair of tennis shoes with velcro closures.  

Every night I would wake up in a sweat. I'd think, how can this be right? Someone has the numbers wrong! I have ridiculously supple skin! I am the girl who is the first to crack a joke in a serious business meeting. The one who still puts my feet out the car window on long road trips. I know every line to the movie "Dumb and Dumber" and occasionally break into my yoda voice when the mood is too heavy. I never lose at thumb wrestling and I have a collection of music that could be broadcast for 29 days without repeating a song, and if enough people listened, I'm pretty sure we could start a party or create world peace. I still get nervous when I meet a friend's parents. I talk to myself in the mirror...drop a "that's what she said" when the timing is right, and can hold a rapid-fire debate with any teenager over who should win American Idol.

How did this happen that I'm all official now, a bona fide grown up? And more importantly, what do I do with this information? 

I pondered this for a day or two, then referred to my tiny guru. She has more answers at age 7 than I do at 40 (which either says something remarkable about her or indicates that, as usual, I am thinking so hard I can't find my own answer.) 

"So Ella..." 
"Yup?" she says, carefully cutting a rainbow out of construction paper. We have all our big talks in the art room. Something therapeutic about chatting while you create with your hands.
"What do you think about Mommy being 40?" I realize I'm whispering, and I'm not sure why.
"What do you mean?" she asks sweetly.
"Well, I just don't feel like I'm 40." She stopped cutting and looked up at me with a toothless grin. 
"How old do you feel right now?" 
"Hmm...28." 
"Then why don't you just be 28?" 
"You can't do that," I snort.
"Says who? You don't have to lie, just feel how you feel. And don't try to be anything different."  

Told you this kid is good. 

So...I proclaim that starting this day, my fortieth year and beyond will be all about authenticity, with no apologies. 

Sounds like no big deal but for me, it's a big one. For most working moms it is. How often do we find the nerve to say "gee I'd love to make cupcakes for that fundraiser but I was really excited to read he next chapter of my novel?" or "I know that creative brief is due, but my kids are flying kites at the park with a babysitter and today, for just one day, I am walking out of this cube at 3 and spending time where it really matters?"

How often do we spend our precious hours "catching up" with acquaintances...thereby plugging our hectic schedules so full that we have no time for those who mean the most to us? And the worst offense of all...how many times have you withheld praise, or love, or affection, or gratitude because you didn't have time to do it perfectly? How ridiculous.

Yes sirree, for the next 40, I will spend every day working toward the phrase, "to thine own self be true." I will say no when I need to. I will invite people over even when my house is filled with laundry and dishes. I will stop worrying about what everyone thinks and concern myself with what kind of a friend, wife, daughter, mother and sister I am to the 15 or 20 people who really truly care. And when I appreciate someone, I might use my yoda voice, but I will make sure I tell them - always.

As my own tiny guru taught me, I will feel how I feel and not try to be anything different. Now there's a mantra.