38

Thirty-Eight starts off with my brain scattered like it is every school morning and me a little sad about letting go of 37. Not because the numbers are getting bigger. I'm ok with that and happy, really, that every year I seem to "get it" a little more. I wouldn't be 20 again for anything. Not unless I could take the wisdom of 38 with me, and then I wouldn't really be 20 anyway. I'd just have a younger body.

But I don't want to say goodbye to 37. Hardest, most amazing year of my life. Power year. And I'm terrified that what goes up must come down. And down, I know all about down.

Tuesday morning I drop the kids at school. I have 15 minutes to make the 25 minute drive south to Washington square mall for a 9 a.m. interview. My passengers are daisies dyed bright blues and greens and yellower yellows than they grew themselves, a glass bottle of bath salts,lavender massage oil, birthday balloon that keeps floating into my vision, box of 12 peeps ghosts and a bottle of Odwalla, Mango Tango.

Scott's been there. He's loaded my car up with goodies for every occasion in the last year. Even when I was barely speaking to him, saying only what I needed to parent together, and the gesture just pissed me off more.

Valentines day it was the first picture taken of us, 23 and looking just like kids. Leaning into each other on a picnic table.

38. I'm running late for this interview and what harm will eating one sugary peep do me? But I can't eat just one. I've eaten three by Washington Square.

Ten o'clock my brain remembers something. Jess is picking Josie up from school at 10:30 and I haven't left a car seat. The stroller moms are circled outside of Sears, babies now bored with the workout and tossing cheerios out their strollers.

In any other interview I would be mortified by what I'm about to say: "I need to go back to Portland. Right Now. I just realized I didn't leave a car seat at pre-school for my 3-year-old to be picked up. I'll have to take your number and call you later."

Any other setting it would betray my secret, incompetence.

Here, I'm just one the girls. Points for me. "Oh my god," they say, line up to give me phone numbers. "You go right now. Go, hurry. You can make it by 10:30. We can talk later." Your one of us they smile. We get you.

Half hour is no problem getting back before school lets out. The phone is ringing happy birthdays and I'm chatting it up. Tell my friend I hope this morning is not a sign of the year to come.

But wait, she says, it all good things. Maybe it means you will remember things before it's to late to fix them and you will be surrounded by people who totally understand you.

That's good, I say, I'll take that. Thanks, you just totally shifted my day. Bite the head off another sugar ghost and drive the highway back while we catch up the last few week

Drive and talk, talk and drive until Jess rings in.

Yeah I say, I'm on my way. I'm at exit. Oh my god, Jess. Shit. I'm going south. I'm half way to Salem. Shit. Okay, I'm turning here. Champoeg. Um. I'll call you when I get back to Portland. Shove a whole peeps ghost in my mouth. Sugar.

How do we put a positive spin on that, my friend says, when call her back.

Beautiful day for a drive I say. Summer blue sky, gorgeous fire leaves. I'm having good conversations. Peeps. I suck the sugar of another, half dozen now, and let the marshmallow dissolve in my mouth.

I've eaten nine peeps when I get back to josie's school.




Josie gets out of I Jess's car. Mama she says. We went to the book store and got you a present.

Thanks. I Kiss her forehead. I say I think that was supposed to be your secret.

But. She squeezes her eyes together. We got you a happy birthday present.

Later she says. I don't like you mama. I'm going to the mommy store and getting a new mommy. Next time I'm a born baby I'm picking a different mommy.

Ok, I say. Because what else do you say to that.



Prema and Jess and me, we are cackling at the giant sushi. At how table by table by table everyone in our diner row takes a picture of the platter before they eat.

Scott's at my house on daddy patrol with the girls. Birthday favor.

Hot saki, plum wine, red wine around the table.

You know what I learned today I ask and I don't wait for the answer. I learned the phrase sugar buzz is not just a phrase. If you eat nine sugar peeps you actually feel high. Not hyper. Not giddy. Stoned. From sugar.

That's a lot of sugar.

We talk about another drink somewhere.

I hedge. Saki warm all over my insides.

Um, I say. I have to get up early tomorrow. Pause. And there's a bottle of massage oil.

38.

If the first day of 38, Tuesday, Oct. 23, is a sign of the year to come. I'll take it.