Not a Baby Anymore

OK, I haven't been a baby for decades now; I am 49 tonight ... and it will be the last time that I will be able to say that - truthfully. The face in this picture is so serious, but then again, I've been told I was a serious child. But what the heck could have ticked me off at 15 months! Maybe my rubber pants were aggravating me ... or maybe I wasn't hip to romping around topless. OR maybe I was tired of lugging around that life sized doll Bobby I actually remember his name.

There were lots of things that made me grumpy. I hated fairy tales, and any other "tale" that was nonsensical. I remember my mother reading me the story of Rapunzel and I was impatient ... "why didn't Rapunzel cut her braid off herself and use it as a rope to escape from the tower?".  Cinderella made me frustrated. "Why didn't she tell her daddy that her new mommy was mean to her? Why didn't she run away?" Fairy tales never flew with me. And don't even get me started on Dr Suess - cat, hat and all of those rhyming words. B o r i n g. Now a good biography was something that held my attention. Some things have never changed.

The sight of my mother's bulging belly was something else that made me grumpy. The thought of more siblings to share my parents with didn't excite me. There was a certain red maternity jumper my mom wore with a black turtleneck that signaled the impending arrival of a new sister and eventually - brother.

I can remember having my picture taken and being urged to "please smile Lyn". What was my problem? What kid doesn't smile? It definitely made the other side of the lens more appealing to me. As a child I remember feeling happy and contented - and very responsible. I took my role as big sister very seriously. I was often put in charge and I reveled in it. It may have left me a little bossy. This could be confirmed by my sibs.

I have always felt like an old soul ... and if you saw the network of wrinkly crevasses lining my palms, you may agree. I feel like someone who has lived many lives ... and I just hope I am learning all that I am meant to in this one. At the risk of sounding cliche, time is gaining momentum, passing faster each year. It seems that all of a sudden I have almost reached pardon my presumption my half way point and I haven't even figured out what I want to be when I grow up.

This milestone birthday is like a check point ... a reminder to take stock and make sure the course you have charted will take you in the direction you want to go. This I will do - as I like to be the navigator on my own voyage. Of course there will always be those changes in coordinates - those surprises that life delivers to test our resilience and skills. And that is what makes living so rich.

Now that pouty little kid in the picture -- well she still furrows her brows and frowns when she is deep in thought or perturbed. And she has learned that viewing life through a lens can reveal that which goes generally unnoticed by the naked eye. She has also learned to smile often and not take life quite so seriously.

Life at 49 - is good. Life at 50 - really good!