Taking stock with my inner child.

I'm a January baby, just on the cusp of Capricorn and Aquarius. There are those who believe this means all sorts of different things. (I've looked it up because I think it's fun.)

But mostly what it means is that my birthday falls close to the start of the year.

At a time when all of us, generally, stop and take stock -- I doubly do it, if that is possible. Not only has the calendar turned a page on to a new year, but in addition, I'm about to receive my annual reminder that I am growing older.

There is no fountain of youth. There is no brick like the one my mom threatened to order when I was five to put on my head and keep me from growing up. (Though, that may be responsible for my unimpressive stature.)

I will be 32.

When I was 19, I carried on steamy Internet correspondence with a man who first claimed to be 26. I learned later - the big reveal! - that he was 32. That seemed really old. But old enough to continue e-mailing.

Now I'm as old as he is. I am not, however, e-mailing any 19-year-olds. I guess that puts me one-up on him.

But as I go over the checklist that was apparently pinned to my heart at birth, I am running behind. You know the checklist I mean.

- Fabulous career. - One down! New one on its way.
- Published novel. - A couple chapters down, and miles to go before I put this one to sleep.
- Large, beautiful house with manicured lawn. - Currently dwelling in cute apartment, currently in shambles.
- White picket fence - Not a single one on my block.
- Doting husband - Have doting boyfriend.
- Adorable, precocious, whip-smart children - Am on pill.

I think by the end of the year, if I perservere, I will have the novel written. A first draft, at least.

As for the house, fence, doting husband and children...

I could probably go down to Home Depot and purchase some fencing if it suited my fancy. Then rent a place to store it.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy with my life. It's just that...

Well, there's a comic strip that explains it better than I can here: http://www.katebeaton.com/Site/Conversations_With_A_Younger_Self.html

It's called "Conversations With A Younger Self."

My younger self, the girl who ALWAYS wanted to play the princess in pretend, who marched Barbie down a toilet-tissue aisle countless times, who gave birth to at least four Cabbage Patch Babies before mastering multiplication tables would be appalled.

She would wander through my cute apartment, failing to see the appeal of the lovely hardwood floors. She wouldn't understand that a washer and dryer are real perks, even if they ARE in the kitchen. She would cast about in vain seeking the dishwasher. She might, at first, assume the kids were in school and their loving father was off at his exciting job - but eventually she would realize the only residents of my apartment (which is long on charm and short on space) are me, some persistent spiders and her. And she's just a figment of my imagination.

Most of the year, I am content that the ambitions of someone in her early thirties can be - NAY! SHOULD be - different from those of an elementary school girl.

But it's this one time of year, when it is still socially acceptable to expect cake and presents, that I am haunted by my inner second grader. I was encouraged once by someone wise --

OK. I'll 'fess up --

I was encouraged once by the lady I see once or twice a year to have my tarot cards read that I should not neglect my inner child. Apparently, neglect of one's inner child can lead to all kinds of karmic no-good, screw up your chakras, cause the Tower to show up in your card readings -- in short, you can wind up unhappy.

At the same time, I'm not supposed to let her call the shots for me.

So, being that I cannot responsibly fulfill all of her wishes, I will spoil her while I can.

Thus, between now and my birthday, my inner child and I will -

- Stay up too late on a school night to watch cartoons.
- Have an ice cream sundae.
- Get some presents.
- Have a little chat about what happiness is made of, and how it has more to do with gently spoiling ourselves with the love of those who will always protect us (ring or no ring), with new adventures (at home or away) and the occasional late night ice cream (Skinny Cow or not).

And less to do with real estate.