Today is my son Ross' 18th birthday. As I was walking in to Cub for birthday doughnuts, it hit me. I am way to young to have my youngest kid an 18 year old - an adult to the rest of the world. When did this happen? As my sister-in-law Cynthia wrote to an e-mail, "Aren't we still in our 30's? It seems to be one of those alternative realities - the older my kids get, the younger I feel. I remember when I was a kid for about 10 years, I thought my Dad was 40, and that was OLD! Of course, now that I am in my mid-high 40's, 40 doesn't seem to be that old at all.
Don't get me wrong. I love the age I am now. I am feel confident about who I am, I am not afraid to state my opinions and really don't care what perfect strangers think of me. I laugh out loud at jokes, I talk to myself while walking down the street and I sing in the car (sometimes with the windows open).
I remember when my youngest brother turned 40, I said to my Mom, I can't believe my youngest brother is 40. She said "How do you think I feel". Well Mom, now I think I know.
When you think about it, the time spent in a penalty box is time well spent. A chance to catch your breath and think about what happened –a chance to take a breather and contemplate life, and to figure out your next move. Since I can’t have a penalty box at hone, I thought I would create one here for myself.
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