It's Official. I'm Old.

Confession: I'm 41 years old.

But in my mind, I'm somewhere in the 16 - 20 range.

I can go to the grocery store, walk out with several bags of groceries that I paid for with a piece of plastic, and marvel that they let me do it. I feel like I've gotten away with something.

I look at these little mini-me's, and cannot believe that God thinks I am responsible enough to raise them. That anyone thinks I'm responsible enough to raise them. I can't keep a plant alive for a month, much less children for 20+ years.

I remember what my sister said about the moment she realized she was old. I was driving my car to the mechanic's, and she was following behind me to bring me home. She said that when she looked through her windshield at me, be-bopping along to some music on the cassette player (her words, not mine) she decided that she was old. If she was in sixth grade when I was born ... and I was now driving my own car ... that would make her ... oh, never mind. In her mind, she was old.

That moment just hit me on Friday.

Barriers to Entry

If you've ever studied business, you know that one of the things to consider when evaluating a business opportunity is the presence of barriers to entry. The term refers to what possible obstacles stand in the way of the business getting off the ground or gaining market share.

• Is the industry heavily regulated? Big barrier to entry.
• Is there a large financial investment necessary up front for equipment, land, people, etc.? Another barrier to entry.
• Are there already several established, dominant players in the market who could squash you like a bug? (Think John Deere, Microsoft, or Coke.) Yep...another barrier to entry.
• Or do you just need a lawnmower, edger, and a few flyers to put in people's mailboxes? Low barrier to entry.

Some of the barriers to entry aren't physical or financial ... they're mental. And they can be the biggest, hardest ones to overcome.  Those voices inside your head can be pretty loud.

And for me, I can be my own barrier to entry. You see, I'm a list maker. I can procrastinate just about anything away and blame it on a to do list of things that "had" to be done first, before I could even start.

A friend of mine (I use the term loosely ... we've met twice), Jon Acuff, is inspiring me to get over waiting for the perfect moment and simply jump at the first moment. This moment. Because this moment will never come again. And the perfect moment may never come at all.

Sunday Confessional: I'm an Adult Underachiever

"Hi. My name is Marybeth. And I'm an adult underachiever."

"Hi, Marybeth." (You know you thought it, even if you didn't say it.)

If you're reading this, there's a good chance that you know me personally. That's because right now, there aren't a lot of people who read my blog who don't share my last name or DNA.

So if you know me ... if you know my life ... you probably have no idea why I see myself as an underachiever.
 
I'm a wife and mother of four boys. (Many people probably think I should stop there. I truly believe there is a special place in heaven for the mother of boys. It is quiet and clean and full of breakable things and scented candles.)

From Finishing to Halftime

When I started my blog, I called it "Finish Well" because I realized that I'm a great starter and a sucky finisher. I had a gillion unfinished projects and books, and I thought that talking about them publicly might shame me into completing a few.

What I didn't even really consider is why I felt compelled to do this. Was it really just a pile of unfinished books and a cross-stitch Christmas stocking that's been eight years in the making? Or was there something more?

Then I realized it. I'm going through my midlife crisis.

I didn't recognize it, because it didn't look anything like what I thought a midlife crisis should look like.

I didn't buy a little red Corvette. (Though I'll take one if anyone's offering).

I didn't have an affair. (I'm sure Herb is glad to hear that one.)

I didn't have a nervous breakdown. (I have a little, tiny one every day, so no need to go overboard.)

My kids weren't all grown and out of the house. (That's about 12 more years away.)

But apparently the phenomenon isn't all that unusual. After all, Time magazine did a cover article about it in 2005.  (Click here to read it.)