wife. mother. teacher. recovering scaredy cat
I have to admit it, Taylor. You’re song “22” has been playing in my head for months.
Not as an anthem, but a parody.
I’ve reworded your lyrics and renamed your title a thousand times. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to come up with anything that doesn’t resemble a third grade math problem….
“22 + 20”
“Almost half a century”
“22 add a few”
You see, I’m 42 today. And I have to say that singing the younger, hipper version of your song has made me feel well, a little slighted about life.
You’re young. I’m old.
You’re dressing up like a hipster. I’m lucky to find an ironed shirt for work in the morning.
You’re having breakfast at midnight. I’m serving cold cereal to my family for dinner.
I think you get the picture, here. While you’re ditching the whole scene, I’m doing the daily grind. I’m tired, Taylor, and the contrast of your life compared to mine leaves me wanting to pop the top down on my convertible (if I had one) and drive far away from my adult responsibilities.
But there’s no running away at 42, little lady. Oh no, that’s when you put on the big girl pants and DEAL. And just when you start doubting that everything will really be alright, this happens.
My nine year old came down the stairs today and gave me this paper as a birthday gift. He’ll be embarking on the teen years soon and so anything that he makes me these days is beyond precious, but this took the proverbial birthday cake today.
I mean, really, have you ever seen anything so marvelous in all your Wildest Dreams? I am scratching my head every time I read it; this acronym that he made about me. Honestly, I don’t really feel like I shed a light of this incredible integrity at any moment of the day but can I just tell you that if he sees even an ounce of this in me, I am FOREVER rejoicing because here is the thing...
In the midst of the messy, frantic, I can’t get this right EVER life that I feel like I am living, my sweet prince sees THIS! I mean, this is grace at it’s finest; God doing this miraculous thing where I give Him my broken mess and he gives me His goodness and then my kid picks it up and writes it down about me and I say, AMEN to it all.
And so, in light of this sincere sonnet spun by my son, I just want to sing....
"Yea….I’m happy, free ,confused and lonely at the same time.
It’s miserable and magical oh yea….
Tonight I have to meet a million deadlines…
I don’t know about you.. but I’m feelin' forty two.
Everything will be alright if we just keep dancin' like we're forty two ooohhhh"
Oh, and did you notice that he signed it, “Love, Batman”? Life. Is. Good.