Keeping up with Nobody

by Judy Merrill Larsen

Here are the things that got me most excited this past week--a new toothbrush, new bras, and making homemade pesto.

I know, you're thinking: whoa there, girlfriend. You're cuh-razy.

And at some point in my life (I'm not sure when exactly), I would have thought that was pretty pathetic and perhaps I needed to get out more. But, the thing is, I don't find it pathetic at all. I'm saying this in all truthfulness--I'm pretty tickled about these things.

I mean the toothbrush is an OralB cross-action vitalizer plus. In hot pink, no less.

Sigh.

I know, I should be a tad embarrassed but I'm not. I'm holding my head up high (what with my squeaky clean pearly whites) and standing a bit taller (thanks to the Soma Intimates Vanishing Lace Bra with little air pocket insert thingies) and looking forward to all the ways I can use the pesto I made.

And it all got me to thinking.

Here's what I realized.

I like being at the stage of my life where I don't need non-stop excitement--and, um, given that my husband and I have 5 kids between the ages of 16 and 24, and we're a "blended" family, to boot, so that we've come to see non-stop excitement as often involving calls in the wee hours of the morning when we'd both rather be sleeping, or interesting notices from various schools and/or authorities, or even just those plaintive looks from said children for more money/fewer questions from the old parental units--we've come to embrace the calm. The placid. The quiet.

And I'm really glad I've reached the point in my life where I don't feel like I'm missing out if I'm in bed by 10:30. Or if I don't have plans every night of the week. I'm more than okay with the thought that there are things happening and I don't even know or care that I'm missing them.

I spent the latter half of my twenties changing diapers, and burping babies, and juggling bills and occasionally feeling like I was missing out on some sophisticated single life (think Sex and the City before it was even created). Not that I was doubting my choices--marriage and motherhood. I just remember wishing I could try out the other path, experience what I was missing. In time I realized that what I was missing was probably mostly hangovers, sexually transmitted diseases, and feeling like my biological clock was running out.

But, you know what they say, the grass is always greener, right?

Then, I spent my thirties as a single mom. Knowing I was missing out on that nuclear family life I saw in too many commercials and TV shows.

But now, in my forties (which I get to hang on to for another year and a half!), it's great to not be wondering what else is out there. I'm not trying to keep up with some standard some screenwriter established. I can get excited about a boffo new toothbrush. Or bras. And still get a decent night's sleep (well, except for waking up for no discernible reason at 4:23 a.m. much too often).

Besides which, I have to rest up because three of my shows (Survivor, Grey's Anatomy, and Desperate Housewives) are starting this week and I need to save my energy to set the DVR to record them.