Forty-Something Parenting

I can do this. I can parent a toddler in my 40s.

I can vow to eat my vita-meata-vegimens every day so I can keep up with Jeremy's ever-increasing speed and stamina.

I can let go of needing extraneous things, like sleep.

I can tame my ego and proudly bid adieu to my dream job to devote more time and energy to Jeremy. I can pretend that I might step back on the career path one day.

I can smile beatifically at the nineteen-year-old cashiers at Target who inquire if I am Jeremy's grandmother.

I can do it.

What I can't do is read the damn screen on the iPod strapped to my bicep when Jeremy and I go out for a jog. How am I supposed to stay hip to the newest music I download from iTunes if the names of the artists are blurry? Steve Jobs must have the same problem as the rest of us baby boomers. He ought to invent a bifocal attachment for MP3 players.