Being Forty-Four

One kid drinks daily coffee

And the other is growing a “goatee.”

What in God’s name does that say about me?

Am I old enough to be the mom of these two,

Passing wisdom and sometimes judgement

Just to name a few?

Both looking down at me, now I’m the small one.

Am I ready to have such an amazing daughter

And and almost grown up son?

Forty-four isn’t that old,

It’s double digits,

It’s eleven.

Still playing,

Knowingly paying for shenanigans

And other transgressions.

But sorry, Go back

No way. Not me.

Never do I want to return to, say, 23.

Back then I had my way all planned out

Didn’t know much of what life was really about.

Didn’t know I’d make it through

Grief,

Anxiety,

Depression,

And pain.

Through moves,  

Being broke,

That feeling of being stuck out in the rain.

But, Im still here at forty-four.

Brighter, better than before.

With age comes crown-wearing wisdom

And a regal beauty no one can ignore.

Or at forty four, we’ll quickly tell you

To get the hell out the door.

So coffee and goatee,

My babies you will always be.

Be proud you have a momma

That knows she’s enough.

And to her, there’s more than what you see.

Being forty-four is alright with me.