I turn 40 in about six weeks. I'm looking forward to it, actually. Forty isn't what I thought "forty" was going to be when I was twenty. Not even close. THAT forty was kinda scary. THIS forty is pretty damned proud of herself, to tell you the honest truth.

When I turned 30, I was ridiculously excited. "I HAVE ARRIVED!!!", I'd tell anyone who'd listen. But the truth of the matter is, I feel like I'm still "arriving". I may have added silver strands among my brown hair, laugh lines that remain long after I'm done laughing and gravity is.... well, real. But I've got a solid marriage, healthy kids, a safe home (watch your step on the front stairs, though...), fantastic health, wonderful friends, the best neighbors, a great job with great coworkers, and enough sense to realize that I am uber blessed every day that this is My Life.

This isn't some sort of midlife, "if-I-repeat-it-often-enough-it'll-become-reality" kind of moments. I am. One lucky gal.

Not a "I-just-tripped-over-a-fifty-dollar-bill" kind of lucky. Heh heh... that'd be nice, too. It's more a prescriptive than descriptive type of luck (thank you wiki). I exercise, sleep well and eat decently, so I enjoy good health. I talk out any concerns with my spouse and we maintain a healthy relationship.

I know for a fact that not everyone wants to hear this. I meet enough people in a day to know that many people don't feel happy about their circumstances. And then there are some who have really rotten circumstances. I can not speak for them. Only myself. Hey, maybe that's another great thing about turning forty: I don't feel like I have to categorize people, make excuses for them or speculate on their reasons for behaviors. (although, hey, "Let's speculate..." is pretty entertaining when you're bored or feeling particularly witty....) I can listen and I can empathize, but realize that I cannot always help to change others' perspectives. Or it could just be that I don't have that kind of time anymore....

But as I sit here, pecking away at the computer, while parked on my "comfortable" sofa, knowing kids dream in their beds down the hall while my husband picks his way through the toy carnage to rediscover a path to the kitchen, I am happy with this new stage of life.

" May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies and quick to make friends. And may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward."