Edward

It is a sad state of affairs when I have an obsession with a 17 year old vampire from a book. What is it about these Twilight books? I don't even have a teenager, just a tween, and she's certainly not reading these books anytime soon. My "Twilightcrack" dealer got me hooked on them. Thanks, T. I've read them all. Seen the movie. Visited the website. Checked out YouTube. Listened to the soundtrack. Looked at the cast photos. What is up with that?

I'm a happily married, for 15 years, mom of two. I have a life. I'm busy. I go out, with people. I have hobbies. Why? What am I missing that makes Edward and his life so fascinating?

I have a theory.

We are the last generation that grew up on the idea that a man might be the key to our happiness. I'm not saying that it is true, or that is how all women were raised. But, are the women my age not one of the last generations to read the "maiden saved by prince charming" type books? Cinderella, Snow White? Slowly and by some degrees I remember that ideal changing as I was growing up. We were learning to be self sufficient. Learning that we could be anything we wanted to be. Or, at least told that, even if it wasn't always true.

Think about the movies now, the animated movies - like Mulan, or Shrek - where the main female character can hold her own. She doesn't need a man. They are individuals who happen to fall in love, but don't need it to survive.

We're the generation that was allowed to be a girl but could do boy things if we wanted. Our mothers paved the way for many of us to work outside the home, but many of us have chosen to stay home mothering instead. We've had it both ways. And Edward reminds of us of that "swept off your feet" feeling. That passionate young love that will burn you up inside if you let it. We are still enchanted by that. And that is why, at least for me, Twilight is my obsession.

I'll keep it around for a little while. It's a giddy feeling. And it's just enough to help me forget all the rest for just a bit. Who doesn't need that?

What the hell?

I have a birthday this Saturday. It is the last birthday I will ever have. Isn't that what I'm supposed to say? I'm knocking on 40's door. Forty has unlocked the door, cracked it open and is pulling the chain off to let me in. I'm going to be *gasp* 39. Thirty nine forever. Not that I really feel that way. Seriously, I'm not concerned about the age thing. My mind is young as ever. Mostly it's just my body going to pieces.

I'm doing everything I can to push that off. The decay. The decrepitude. Is that even a word? This hurts. That hurts. That doesn't run right. I have glasses now. I'm tired. I don't enjoy things that I used to enjoy. I can't even eat candy without thinking about how it will affect me. I won't go into details. You can thank me later. I do workout. I lift weights. I do cardio. I try to stay fit. I don't smoke. I do drink, but not a lot, unless I'm drinking with my friend, Tracy, and then I just get sucked in. I don't engage in dangerous activities, unless you call willingly walking across a Lego strewn floor in the dark dangerous. Painful, yes. Dangerous, not so much.

Forty will not get the best of me. But I have a feeling it will be the best part of my life. My kids are the best age for actually getting things done. They help out. They aren't as demanding. One will actually start driving in the next four years. I feel like I could actually become a real person in these next few years. Not just "mommy."

Mommy has been my persona for the last 11 years. And when I stopped working and stayed home, I was so "mommy" that I became literally invisible to people at my husband's work functions. So, it is exciting to think that maybe, maybe I could have a purpose other then washing clothes, doing dishes, driving kids, shopping (and not the fun kind). I might actually find a job that - wait for it - pays me money! Where I can work on something and actually finish it! Where I might even get a "way to go" or "thanks for your hard work." I know, I'm getting all crazy in the head. What do I need that for? I'm just a "mommy." Mommy's are all about selflessness, sacrifice, giving.

I'm not that mommy. I have been for 11 years. But now, I'm taking back my body, my mind, my life and working on something a bit more exciting than a class homework assignment to build a diorama or finding something that my son will eat that is even remotely healthy. I go out several times a month. I'm still feeling guilty, but that is passing. I have finally realized that without some "me time" - I know, how cliche - I don't have much left for everyone. The well is dry, people.

So, I'm almost 40. Almost. I still have one year left to act like a 30 year old. Not sure what that is, but I'll let you know if I can figure it out before I'm 40. I'll be here, living the dream.