Posts Tagged ‘old age’

Time Flies when You’re having FUN!

December 11, 2009

I just figured out that I’m getting old.  Last week, I figured it out.  All by myself.  Yep.  Old.

The KID that wore the pharmacist badge in the drug store couldn’t have been more than 13 years old.  He didn’t even shave yet.  Isn’t pharmacy school the long version of college?  I’m not getting old.  He was probably homeschooled.  Graduated highschool at 9 years old.  Yep.

The nine-inch zipper on the front of my jeans… is quite lovely.  I can’t imagine a two-inch zipper!?!  What’s the point?  And the back!  Gaaawww.  Say “NO!” to crack!  “Moms will love the nine-inch zipper” is TRUE even if it was on SNL.  We love it for everyone.

Where did these four boxes of Christmas ornaments come from?  We just got married… just a while ago…  seems like last year…. could it really be 23 Christmases ago?  We’ve celebrated baby Jesus’ birthday 23 times as married folk?  That means I was 13 when we got married, if I remember right.  I must still be in my 30’s.  Right?…. Anyone?….

Forty-something-year-olds are almost 50.  That’s half a century.  Old.  That’s the middle ages.  Ouch.

And when did they start letting pre-teens work at the post office?  I thought for government jobs you had to be 18?  I think the postal worker was wearing root beer glossy lip gloss and a training bra.  Goodness.

The phone rang last week.  Caller ID read “Telemarketer.”  Total no-brainer.  Don’t answer.  Well, I knew I needed to clean the whole kitchen and I thought the mental distraction would be proactive on my part.  Plus, with caller ID, who do these poor telemarketers talk to anymore?  The decision was made in a nanosecond. I would take a survey.  I would be the nice person.  I would make Mr. Telemarketer’s entire evening by being cheerful and peppy with my answers.  Come to find out, it was about jams, jellies and preserves!  I love jams, jellies, and preserves!  This would be more fun than I originally thought!  Well, question #3 was “What age group do you fit into?”  I’m always in the third group, I thought patiently, waiting for the age groups.  His monotone voice began, “Group 1: ages 18 – 21, Group 2: ages 22 – 25, Group 3: ages 26 – 29, Group 4: ages 30 – 34, Group 5: ages 35 – 39, Group 6: ages 40 – 44, Group 7: ages 45 – 49, Group 8…..”  I hung up.

The stupid jam guy said I was old.  Group SIX!  Nearing Group SEVEN!  That’s how I figured it out.

Abiding the Adoption Wait-time

July 6, 2008

Zaza could look like this lil’ darlin’.

Tomorrow is officially the start of our sixth month of being waiting parents for our little Colombian daughter.  Adoption is a weird deal.  It messes with your emotions.  You get hooked on the idea and you cannot stop the daydreaming about your child that you haven’t met. 

There were several little girls Zaza’s age around the house this week.  They are busy little bees. It makes me question our advanced ages for adopting a 3-5 year old.  I just keep quoting my mantra, “I was in my thirties when she was born.  I was in my thirties when she was born.”  It makes me feel like I’m youngish and ready for a pre-school age child.  DRE-E-E-E-EAM, DREAM DREAM DRE-EAM.

On nights like tonight when I’m dead-dog tired, I wonder if I will hold up like the days of old when I had my first go-around with young children.  Looking back I seemed invincible.  I handled it all so effortlessly.  I’m not feeling invincible these days. And nothing is effortless anymore.  Is it my age?  Or is it just the pre-camp counselor blues?  Did I mention DEAD-dog tired?

On a cherrier note, I cannot wait to hold Zaza in my arms and kiss her and wet her black hair with my happy tears.  I’m sure that’ll be a new deal for her… someone that is so happy to see her… overcome with joy… and crying crocodile tears.  I’m not the poker face type.  I’m more the wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve type.  I think Zaza will appreciate it… on maybe the eighth day, or ninth. 

Mama’s coming, Zaza.  Hold on, girl!

www.bagsforzaza.blogspot.com   and    www.LindaCrosby.com