Today is my half-birthday. Only six months left until that first number changes.
I remember when my mom turned 50. I took my preschool-age daughter and a bouquet of 50 yellow roses and made the hour-long trip to where she lived just to take her out to lunch.
I remember when mom's sister turned 50. She threw herself a birthday party.
When my husband turned 50, his birthday fell on a Sunday. Our 17-year-old daughter was less than a month away from becoming a mom, and we had hosted two baby showers for her on Saturday. So while the house was cleaned and already festive, I threw a surprise open house in his honor. I didn't want him being forgotten in all the baby hustle and bustle. (As it turned out, he saw the party goodies and figured out there was going to be a party, but the real surprise was the number of people - and who they were - who came to celebrate with him.)
We have a couple other friends who celebrated this milestone in recent years.
And now I'm on the downhill side of the mountain to it being my turn.
And honestly, with the better eating, and the exercise, and the weight dropping off, I feel as if I have a head start and I'm running down the hill to meet it. No...to embrace it. I'm not going to just be coasting in, doing the same old thing day after day. I have goals, and I have a purpose in meeting those goals, and it's going to be a big deal (to me, at least). And instead of being depressed and feeling old and frumpy and middle-aged, I'm going to feel better than I have in a long time.
So bring it on!