{"id":792,"date":"2014-09-11T22:53:13","date_gmt":"2014-09-12T03:53:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/?p=792"},"modified":"2014-09-11T22:53:13","modified_gmt":"2014-09-12T03:53:13","slug":"thirty-eight","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/?p=792","title":{"rendered":"Thirty-Eight"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"38\"<\/a>At 18, you get to vote. At 21, you get to purchase alcohol. At 25, you get much better deals on car rentals. That’s pretty much when the birthday perks stop. Okay, at 35, you get to run for president, but other than that, it’s a long wait until you qualify for the senior citizen discount at Publix.<\/p>\n

I turned 38 last weekend. No perks, and, for the first time, some actual angst about my age. I blame my 20th high school reunion, an event that has been haunting my Facebook feed since the spring, reminding me that high school was a very long time ago. That, and the fact that at 38, I can no longer say I’m in my mid-30s. That was a bit of a stretch at 37, I know, but people tend to go along with a mathematician on these kinds of things.<\/p>\n

Prior numbers didn’t bother me. 34 was great, since, according to the mythology, that’s how old Superman is. There’s the president thing at 35 — that was good for a laugh. 36 seemed fine, too, and 37 is a nice prime number. But 38. Man, 38.<\/p>\n

It took me a while to figure out what was really bothering me. It’s not so much the age, it’s the fact that I’m still single. I really didn’t think I would be single four years out from my divorce. Getting divorced is a terrible experience at any age, but at least getting divorced at 34 meant that I had most of my 30s to find someone new. That seemed entirely possible. (Superman, remember!) Now with most of my 30s behind me, I’m thinking about this differently.<\/p>\n

And here’s what I’ve realized in recent weeks: I don’t want to be the only one I know 20 years from now who remembers my kids’ childhood.<\/p>\n

Sure, I’ll probably still be friends with some of the people who know my kids now. I’m sure to have family members I’m still close with, too. And my ex will probably still be around in some capacity. But I look around at married parents, especially divorced friends who have remarried, and I think about how they’ll be able to reminisce about their children when they were little. I would really like someone who could reminisce with me!<\/p>\n

For instance, a few weeks ago my family was introduced to the song “Pumpin Blood<\/a>” by the band NONONO, thanks to the always awesome Spare the Rock, Spoil the Child<\/a> podcast. It’s a whistling song, and Lily can whistle. She figured out how to whistle long before most of her friends. Hannah, her ten-year-old sister, still can’t whistle, so whistling is something that Lily uses to distinguish herself. (That, and beating everyone at board games.) Lily sitting in her car seat whistling along to “Pumpin Blood” as it plays on the car radio is just about the cutest thing ever. I don’t ever want to forget that.<\/p>\n

Or consider Hannah and her cast. She fell down while roller skating a few weeks ago and hurt her wrist. The doctor said there was no fracture, but there was enough tenderness to warrant a cast for two weeks. As soon as Hannah heard she might be getting a cast, she started planning. She would get a purple cast and a silver Sharpie for signatures. And that’s exactly what she did. For someone with a bum wrist, she sure was beaming when I dropped her off at school with her new cast!<\/p>\n

I take a ton of pictures and I write down stories like these here on the blog. My long-term memory isn’t great, so I do these things to help me remember. I probably need to take more videos of my kids, but otherwise, I’m doing what I can to capture and treasure this time with them while they’re little. I know I don’t need a significant other to love on my kids. And I know that, all things considered, I have a pretty good life as a single dad. I have enough money to provide for my family, I have a big network of friends, and my ex and I get along pretty well. And 38? Well, it may be late 30s, but I know there are a lot of other numbers that are bigger than 38. So I really can’t complain.<\/p>\n

Maybe my takeaway here is that 38, terrible number that it is, has helped me see more clearly what I want for my life. It’s definitely helped me appreciate the time I have with my kids more. So maybe it’s not that terrible after all.<\/p>\n

I just wish 39 were a prime number. That would be something to look forward to.<\/p>\n

Image: “38<\/a>,” Leo Reynolds, Flickr (CC)<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

At 18, you get to vote. At 21, you get to purchase alcohol. At 25, you get much better deals on car rentals. That’s pretty much when the birthday perks stop. Okay, at 35, you get to run for president, but other than that, it’s a long wait until you …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":798,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[5,18],"class_list":["post-792","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-growing-up","tag-single-dad","column","twocol","has-thumbnail"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/792","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=792"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/792\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":800,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/792\/revisions\/800"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/798"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=792"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=792"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=792"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}