This morning, since I'm spending the day at home with Jonas instead of working (I don't work on Mondays), Jonas and I decided to take some time, catch up, and have an important conversation on the occasion of my 35th birthday. You'll see he's even appropriately dressed in his personalized lab coat, a gift from his grandfather, who is a psychiatrist.
"Please, Mom. Come on in. Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable." I sit down.
"Nevermind me, if I play with this thing. It helps me think clearer. So tell me... how's it going? How are you feeling about 35?"
"Well, the truth is, Jonas, I really don't feel any different whatsoever."
"Hmmm. Really. Not at all? I find that hard to believe. Everyone has feelings about aging, Mom."
"Well, ok. Yes, I guess I have to concede that I don't really like the sound of the number 35. It's only 5 away from 40. And, well, not that 40 is old..."
"Uh huh... go on..."
"I mean, I don't think that 40 is "old" when other people reach that age, but I suppose that perhaps I'm a little less comfortable thinking of myself aging. I feel like I'm 25, physically speaking."
"Mmm, yes. Go on..."
"Now, I suppose in other dimensions, I would say I feel older--like say, emotionally, well, I've been around a few bends, so I feel more emotionally mature than 25..."
"I would say I feel my age when it comes to emotional development. Spiritually, speaking, well, I don't know, exactly. I think I've made progress on that front too. Who really knows about that, anyway?"
"I see. Well, how would you rate your satisfaction with your life?"
"I'd rate it very high. I have many, many blessings. A wonderful and fulfilling marriage. The opportunity to be a mother and enjoy all of it's many privileges and sacrifices. I have great friends, a caring family... I'm physically well. On occasion, I could use a little more sleep (hint, hint!)."
"Yes, I'm picking up on the passive-aggressive tone, there, Mom. I'm a baby, ok?? I've got major teeth issues."
"Right, sorry. I was just trying to be honest."
"Well, if you ask me, Mom, I think you've got it all figured it. Now, it took you while to get the feeding down, as well as the different crying sounds and their associated messages, but you're even demonstrating pretty good skills in that arena, currently. I think--and take this for what you will, after all, I am only 9 months old--that you shouldn't worry about any numbers. You're a good cook, you're fun, you're really good at walking without falling, you can make me stop crying better than anyone else, oh, and you have lots of blessings. Age is just a number. It's really about how you feel. You get me?"
"You are wise beyond your years, Jonas."
"So, there you have it. A little "arm chair psychology" from your favorite Dr. Vinciquerra."
"Indeed. Thank you, dear."
"Think nothing of it, Mother. And happy birthday."