40

On Friday we celebrated Mike's 40th birthday. I know I posted about a celebration a while back, causing my parents to call me with undue panic and confusion: "Did we miss Mike's birthday?" Weeks ago Mike's family celebrated all the Matessa and clan spring birthdays. The actual day of reckoning arrived Friday, and Mike faced his milestone birthday in the manner he spends most of his days: with grateful shrugs and a carefree grin. We wore dinosaur party hats (selected by Andy), and savored "40 Sucks" lollipops. We ordered House Tofu and cream cheese Wanton from Hunan Kitchen down the street. We dined in, just the three of us, as Andy played Thomas trains and ate one bite of a mini veggie corn dog.

If the idea of his ever-approaching mortality was weighing down on him like a 5 ton elephant, Mike didn't let on. In fact, he claims 40 was easier than 30. Ten years ago, he didn't have a sweet voice waking him, singing "Happy Birthday to my dear friend Daddy." Now he has the sweet, and alternately whiny, voices of his own family. Somehow he's convinced this makes for a richer life.

One more birthday present for both of us: Pete and Carol watched Andy and his cousins last night. This time Mike and I stayed home, and worked a bit on the house and yard.

I had some time to think about parenting, namely, how overwhelmed and inadequate I feel, most of the time. Everything from eating (he doesn't), sleeping (still up at least once), dressing, bathing, potty training, and most challenging of all: interactions with other children. In an aha moment, it occurred to me that my parents lost their temper with me not because they were fatally-flawed (although they would be the first to admit that they are, as are any of us as human beings), but because I was an extremely vexing, intense, and sensitive child. Ditto, my son.

Not easy-going like his father.

I'm reading The Selfish Gene, by Richard Dawkins, and wondering why my genes had to be so selfish at procreation. If they were just a little more altruistic, my genes might have realized that possessing a brooding, emotional nature might not be the best way to navigate in the world.

I think a change of scenery, a visit with family and friends (which we have planned for June), will do Andy and I both some good. I'm also wondering if I should go back to work part-time. As my grandmother would have said, maybe I just need to "get to work".