Today I will become forty.
At this time, I would like to dispel all myths about myself. I am not supermom. I am not a perfect example of homeschooling. My house is cluttered. I have moments of great insecurity and I worry that I'm screwing up my kids. I didn't even like broccoli when I was a child.
Like that shot? Thank my father. He told me if I didn't finish eating, he would take a picture. You can see how I was always determined to do things my way. By the way, I do like broccoli now. After years of having this picture pulled out for the amusement of family and my future husband, I can now honestly say that the broccoli was overcooked (sorry Mom). I prefer it lightly steamed.
Thirty nine has been a pretty good year. I had some work published. I won an honorable mention for my poem "Reading a Hot Drink." I am blessed with a large and supportive circle of family and friends. I couldn't ask for more, really.
And I know right now some of you are thinking, "How are you holding up after 40 years?" when the question should be, "How are my kids holding up?"
Let's take a look, shall we?
I would say they're holding up rather well. They're not getting any lighter though.