To Dye or not To Dye

I'm 51 years old. Just one year ago I was 50. Somewhere in that time it seems I have aged, a lot.

It's like someone pulled a plug and said that's it, time for your youth to spiral down the drain. I had some gray hair before but not so much that I appeared to be a grandmother rather than a mother of a 7 year old.

A few weeks ago I finally cut off much of my long hair, about 8 inches and brought it up to my shoulders. Now all I see is the gray. So I bought a box of hair color. It's been sitting on my bathroom counter taunting me.

I do want to have my old color back and hide some of the gray. What I don't want to do is have to maintain it. Kind of like when you first shave your legs, there's no going back. So I have to decide if I want to put one more thing on my "keep yourself up to snuff" list. Ugh!

I will confess that I let the smooth shaven legs look, go much longer between shaves than I used to. I'm not married or dating and no one else seems to care. Plus I'm can't see without my glasses on anymore to do a proper job in the shower anyway.

This whole fabulous fifties thing isn't really happening for me yet. I need to work on that.

His Flower for Mom

Digital art from my 5yr old son.

He calls this "Pink Iris"

I love it!

The Moment is Now

Do you know what children are? Children are walking, talking, neon lit living billboards glaring at you as you race down the highway of life.

Billboards that jump out at you as you pass every landmark and they yell, "Did you remember to savor that moment?, because you'll be dead soon".
Or, "Did get that last great photo?, because you'll be dead soon".

There is nothing like having a child late in life to blatantly announce your mortality to you.
I know younger mothers try to capture every moment and commit it to memory too but I doubt they feel the urgency the over forty crowd does.

I've heard it said, having a child late in life keeps you younger. I think having a child late in life can be a reminder to live every day, right now. Instead of wasting time outside the moment, creating scrapbooks we may not live long enough to savor.

Morbid? Maybe, looks like forty nine is shaping up to be that kind of year.

Why I Now Need a Dishwasher

My excuse for not doing dishes and why I desperately need a dishwasher!

Even though my son is five, it's still just the two of us and I have been able to keep up with the dishes, until now.

Our eight month old kitten "Bug", has other ideas about the kitchen sink.

He won't even move if I turn the water on!

Mr. Bug is one funny cat! Meanwhile, I'll just keep wishing for an appliance fairy.

Sundown and Anxiety

Photo Credit:US Fish and Wildlife Service

The approaching evening use to be a time of peace and relaxation for me. After a busy day of rounds or vet work, I looked forward to evening and a quiet meal. That seems to have changed in the last year. I'm not sure if it's because my son is growing so fast or the fact that I am aging at almost the same rate.

Sundown now brings with it a sense of dread that I did not do enough to make the day worthwhile. That another one of the few days I have left, has been wasted. Did I spend enough "quality" time with my son? Did I commit it to memory? Did I move toward my goals?

I swear sometimes it feels as if I'm having an anxiety attack.

Is this new feeling of "not having accomplished enough" an approaching menopause phenomenon? Or is it just a mother watching time laugh in her face?

Since getting a good night's sleep also seems to be a pointless goal as I approach fifty, bedtime is not exactly a welcome time either. Sadness in the morning, anxiety at night, I'm in hormonal hell. My mortality is not a pretty sight!

Mommy's Punching Bag

This is the best Christmas giftthat I ever stole from my son! I bought it for him this year so he would have something to beat up, instead of me or the furniture. He also uses it when he gets angry to work out his frustrations and calm down.

However, I have discovered that giving it a few whacks is a great way for me to de-stress too.
Plus my son thinks it's very funny to see mommy punching and mumbling under her breath. In no time at all, we are both laughing and feeling a lot better.

Best of all, so far no one has popped it. Not even the cats. It's probably only a matter of time though, so I will keep it out of their reach. I may have to eventually invest in a real one for us both.

I didn't get gloves to use with it and I don't think I will. Punching it bare fisted seems more satisfying to me. I think I should give it a name. So, does anyone have any good name ideas?

Childhood Perceptions

When I was a girl, we had a large marble top dining room table. As a family we ate meals there, did our homework and a lot of crafts. I remember rolling cookie dough on the cold marble top and setting out trays and trays of cooked ones to cool. It was smooth, solid and seemed to spread out forever. I remember thinking growing up that I could build anything on it because it was huge!

I now have that same table in my dining room. As an adult, it never seems big enough for anything. It actually measures 60" x 36" and seats six people. I use this table to home school my son, to do craft projects, occasionally eat a meal and anything else I need a large flat surface for. It's still smooth as glass and very solid (it weighs a ton and needs two men to move it).

Now however, I wish it were twice a big. The same table that swallowed up anything I put on it a child, has now been dwarfed by the possessions of a adult.

I love this table, but like so many things that held special power when we were children, now that I am an adult, the table is just a table. I look around my home today and wonder what things my son perceives as awesome and powerful? Will it be the tall bookcases? The four post bed in mom's room? Or maybe that very same marble top table?

My Tulip

Today my son painted me a Tulip!

It's my favorite flower (he told me it was, so it must be).