It's 5:30 in the morning, a full 90 minutes before my alarm is due to go off. I packed lunches last night, but I forgot to set out the kids outfits and I'm anxious to get them dressed and pack their change of clothes for daycare. A million thoughts go through my head while I try to convince my brain to shut off and sleep. Instead, my mind fails to stop racing, so I get up and start preparing for the day quietly so as not to wake up the kids. 

About six months ago, I took a part-time job a 15-minute walk from my house. I set up a schedule that allowed me to drop off and pick up Monkey from PreK and lined up two babysitters for my gregarious Munchkin. As my first day of work approached, I packed three lunches--Monkey's, Munchkin's and mine--set out clothes and planned out the day of drop-offs and hand-offs, dashing around in work clothes that had been languishing in the back of my closet for nearly two years. For the most part, work fit into the schedule I'd already established with the kids. We were always out the door at 7:50 am and back home in the early afternoon. The main difference was that while Monkey still went off to school, Munchkin was home with the sitter while I went to the office. 

I turn 40 today and I think I'm supposed to be depressed about it. After all, the card at the drug store says, "Lordy lordy, look who's forty" in depressingly large black font in case the recipient doesn't have her bifocals on hand. (Note to the drugstore marketing team: You should really put the card next to the anti-aging cream.)

I can admit that I'm getting old and, in fact, I've noticed signs that I'm aging. If I bend down, my back aches for a few minutes before I can straighten up. I carry a sweater  with me just in case the air conditioning is on too strong. I've walked out of restaurants because the music was too loud crowing, "Who can have a conversation with such loud music?!" I've already failed the high-frequency hearing tests I'm supposed to pass until I'm 40, so it's clear that any day now, I'm going to start asking the waiter to repeat the early-bird specials.