Jedi-Mama On Aging

We had one of those days yesterday, that was just wall-to-wall busy.  It was a day full of girlfriends and family, and strawberry cheesecake and chai teas and S’Mores brownies with TWO BAGS OF CHOCOLATE CHIPS IN THEM and a chocolate cake, and MAMA NEEDS SOME PROTEIN NOW BEFORE SHE DIES OF A SUGAR OVERLOAD.

But… it was my birthday and all, and I wouldn’t want to celebrate my birthday with a pot of boiled eggs hot off the stove.

(Which is what I had today, because I felt like a recovering sugar addict this morning, who wasn’t loved enough for anyone to stage an intervention.  Come to think of it, though, everyone around me had plates piled high with the same buffet items, so maybe they were too sugar-stoned to actually shed a tear and exclaim, “This is for your own good, Mama; we’ve got to use the leeches and bleed that chocolate cake right out of you.”)

(Maybe we could have gotten a group rate at the rehab clinic.)


I’m  officially older now.  In fact, I’m the oldest today that I’ve ever been, and I’m not quite sure how I got this way.

(Well, you know, except for the obvious reason of ALL THOSE BIRTHDAYS, JANUARY AFTER JANUARY.)

I was telling my friend, Robyn (who went to school with me from first grade through our senior year), that I never pictured actually being a forty-something person when we were in elementary school.  I just always thought we’d wear our Jordache jeans and be the reigning tether-ball champions on the playground FOR. EVVVERRR.

(Because, I won’t lie; I could wrap a tether-ball around the pole faster than any of the boys could, and I didn’t have to cheat and catch the rope in the crook of my arm.)

But then the Jordache jeans gave way to the Guess overalls, and nobody wanted to play tether-ball any longer, because BOYS!  So we all met in the junior high bathroom after lunch to swap tubes of lip gloss and swoon over how cute So-And-So looked in his school football jersey, and DID YOU SMELL HIM IN PRE-ALGEBRA CLASS?  BECAUSE HE’S WEARING POLO COLOGNE TODAY!!!

(I’m fairly certain that many marriages happened because of Polo cologne in the ’80s.)

And then we quit wearing Guess overalls, because you can really only pull those off before you gain the Freshman Fifteen at college.  And then, in the blink of an eye, here we are, wearing Mom Jeans and wondering if we can really go TWO FULL DAYS without washing our hair, as long as we wear it in a ponytail and don’t leave the house, and WHO STOMPED ON THE GOLDFISH CRACKERS THAT HE SPILLED ON THE LIVING ROOM RUG? and IS THIS SOMEONE’S BOOGER STUCK ON THE HALLWAY WALL?

Life has a way of moving right along.

But I’m learning that my forties are starting off okay.  I’m smarter now.  I know that jeans should be bought for CAN I SIT DOWN IN THESE WITHOUT THE WORLD BEHIND ME BEING FLASHED WITH THE PROBLEMS OF PLUMBERS? instead of THESE THINGS SQUEEZE THE VERY BREATH OUT OF ME, BUT DANG!  THEY’RE CUTE, SO I’M BUYING THEM.  If you can’t bend over in the grocery store to pick a toddler up off the floor who is in the dead-center eye of an Oscar-winning fit, then your jeans need to go.

I also know that finding a graham cracker from the week before beneath the sofa and eating it isn’t going to kill a toddler.  This is actually a good thing, because such finds are a main nutritional intake for Thing 2.  That baby doesn’t necessarily like the food ON his plate, as much as he enjoys the food he finds IN THE WILDS OF THE UNCLEANED HOUSE.


I know I’m rambling, but the elderly have a way of doing that.

So, I’m just going to sign myself up for shuffleboard at the senior center, because it doesn’t come with the dangers of dislocating a shoulder like tether-ball does.  And, with the winter Olympics coming up, I’ve decided that I probably have the stamina to participate in curling.  I’m also pretty certain that Robyn will bring her broom to the ice rink and help sweep our team to victory.

Of course, Victory these days usually has more to do with I GOT INTO BED AT 8:00 TONIGHT than it does with LOOK AT THIS FLASHY GOLD MEDAL HANGING AROUND MY NECK.

Which brings me to THIS:

1554559_10201957102343246_790834947_nMy friend, Tera, posted that to my Facebook wall yesterday.  It’s actually flat-out hilarious, because Hubs just asked me last week if I wanted to catch up on the episodes of Modern Family on his iPad that we’d missed.  I looked at the clock.  It was 8:20.  I told Hubs, “Um, okay… but JUST ONE episode, because LOOK HOW LATE IT IS!”

The tether-ball and curling athletes need their sleep, people.

Which, I’m pretty sure, can be achieved by all of YOU, simply because you read another boring blog post right here at Jedi Mama, Incorporated.

Good night, y’all.  If you need me, I’ll be studying the menu of the local senior center, so I can decide which meals I want to have down there this week.

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