Three days after my birthday. Am I older? Definitely yes. Wiser? Hmmm....some people I know might want to debate that (and return the unanimous verdict of "Nay". ). All I can say is, I don't feel any different in my head than I did 10 years ago. My daughter asked me how old I was and I told her I was twenty. To her four-year old mind, that's a BIG age, so I knew she couldn't handle my real age (plus I didn't want her divulging it to everyone she met). Yesterday her teacher wished me belatedly on being twenty with a big grin on her face - what's so funny about it, I ask you? Like my 8-year old son pointed out sarcastically, I must have been twelve when I had him. Seriously though, I don't believe in lying about my age. I think we should all be thankful for each year we get to spend on this earth. And call it desperation on my part, but I really want to believe that women are like wine - they only get better with age. I felt really blessed on my birthday* - the wishes were pouring in, I had a surprise birthday party in my honour and a friend I'd lost touch with not only remembered my birthday but rang from Kuwait to wish me. That really meant a lot.
* despite the cruel jokes that were made about my age.
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