The first time it happened I was cutting the grass.

I made a sharp turn with our completely, non-self-propelled lawn mower, my foot slipped off of the curb, rolled under itself and just like that, I had a broken foot. Not sprained, broken. Because, if I’m going to go for it, I go for it all.

The second time I broke it was the most glamorous incident. I was skiing. You know, with those boots that don’t even let you BEND your ankle? Yeah, those. But, it was on a mountain! Okay, not really. It was a hill. In Ohio. Did I mention the boots?

The third time? It was when my daughter was a toddler and I was using an ottoman to block a doorway. If anyone knows ANYTHING about toddlers, it’s that they can’t climb over ottomans! Apparently, some adults can’t either.

The phone rang one day and instead of stepping over my barricade I decided to go all HURDLER on it. My enormous foot didn’t quite clear it and as I fell to the tile floor, I heard a snap. Then there were noises that sounded very much like someone was actually sticking a knife into my foot…via my ears.

The fourth time may have been tonight when I…wait for it…walked out of my back door. See incident #1 again. Roll, snap, elevate, repeat.

I am nothing, if not graceful.

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After I dropped the kids off at school this morning, I drove to the library to return some books.

Next to the library there is a long path which runs for miles to the north and south, mostly used by runners and bikers and one loose dog who once darted up the riverbank, through the trees and sent a biker flying over her handlebars onto the asphalt. I don’t know who that dog belonged to, but I have seen her sleeping in my daughter’s bed.

I digress.

Because it was so early when I returned the books, the path was mostly empty, save for a lone, young mother with a jogging stroller. My initial reaction was that she didn’t seem much different than I used to be; which, after some thought, wasn’t really true at all.

Of course, I don’t know the woman so it’s quite possible that we are a lot alike…though, when I say that, I mean her young-self and my middle-aged self, because I could tell by looking at her that she had her act together far more than I did at her age.

First of all, it was 8:00 AM. And, she was jogging. With a baby.

Second, she was color-coordinated and wearing nice workout gear.

Third, see the first thing again.

I was SO not that mother. As a matter of fact, I can recall feeling very disheveled inside and out. I can remember not wanting to leave my house because of the way I looked and I canceled plans all the time. I was overweight, my hair was completely unstyled and my clothes were outdated. Inside, I was a mess because I thought all of that mattered. I felt like a hag at the age of 27.

Now? I’m MORE overweight, my hair is a disaster and I’m currently wearing a shirt with a coffee stain and my husband’s running shorts from 1990. The ones that I fished out of the Goodwill bag because, hello? Perfectly good running shorts! Even though the stripe down the left leg has detached itself and hangs loosely.

But, inside I’m not disheveled anymore, no matter what I look like on the outside when I show myself in public. I don’t stay home and make excuses. I am living my life, enjoying my family, friends, work and the confidence that comes with age. Well, in my case anyway. After seeing that young mother and knowing that I would have never done what she was doing, I realized that 40 isn’t such a bad place for me to be. Either that, or it’s my Zoloft.

All I can say is that it feels good.

And, I didn’t even have to go jogging.

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A few weeks ago, I came face to face with a woman who I thought would hate me. Her name is Katherine.

We were both nominated for what I can only describe as the blogging equivalent of the Oscars. I won’t get in to how much of an honor it is to be chosen for Voices of the Year, because if you’re not a blogger then you won’t understand. My mom is scratching her head right now. I don’t have to go into details, because that isn’t what matters. Just know it’s a big deal.

So, Katherine and I were both nominated and we tied for People’s Choice. I don’t know how the decision was made that I would end up reading my winning post in front of a huge audience, while she was simply mentioned as a finalist, but that’s what happened.

Photo from www.walkingwithscissors.com

I felt a lot of guilt over that tie.

I was worried that Katherine would think there was favoritism involved or that I didn’t deserve to be on the stage. Clearly, her post resonated with the community as well and I’m sure she wondered why she didn’t get to share it.

But, when I saw Katherine, I was greeted with a warm hug and a “Congratulations!”. It wasn’t disingenuous, it wasn’t contrived and at the reception following my reading she grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little when she said, “There is no doubt that your post was meant to be read. You did great!”

She is a class act. She handled the entire situation with grace and didn’t judge me or cry favoritism. She was accepting, understanding and I will forever call her my friend.

I can’t say that I would have been as kind as Katherine. I would like to hope so. I think I would be gracious, but I really don’t know.

Maybe I would have been catty. Maybe I would have appraised the situation with virulence and talked behind Katherine’s back and said she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I would have said that my post was better than hers.

I am nothing if not flawed.

There is a huge lesson to be learned here; which is that bitterness and jealousy is good for no one. If the tables had been turned and I was in Katherine’s situation and hadn’t handled it the way she did, I would have missed out on a friendship with a strong woman, brilliant writer and really good person.

And, instead of tying for the win, I would have completely lost out.

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Do you know how long 14 years is? It’s a long time. It’s longer than either of my children have been on this earth.

Let me give you some examples. In 1997:

– Titantic was released in theaters

– The first Harry Potter book was published

– Mother Teresa and Princess Diana died

– The Hale-Bopp comet came close enough to earth to make a group of people don their Nikes

And, my husband and I said, “I do.”

Fourteen years ago today, he saw a slender, well-coiffed, non-wrinkled, perky-boobed girl walking down the aisle. Today, he sees something very different. He sees tired, stressed and, decidedly, unperky. And, most nights, I don’t even make him dinner.

I have gone up two dress sizes and wear lounge pants most days. My hair is always up in a bun and I get headaches a lot. To be honest, I’m kind of a pain in the butt.

But, he keeps on loving me through it all. For better or for worse.

And, I keep loving him too.

Happy Anniversary, Dado Fali. Thank you for marrying me.

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