Happy Halloween! I know for many of you this is an exciting holiday. For me it is reason to increase my cardio. (I have issues with chocolate. I know you probably wouldn’t understand.)
I have entered my last week as a 34-year-old. On Sunday I will no longer be able to check the box 25-34 on questionnaires. I’m headed into a new territory – 35-44. By the way, I hadn’t noticed this until I filled out a survey on Friday. All I can say to you is this – This is weird.
The weird feeling was soaking me all weekend. I have spent four years in my thirties and they have been fantastic! However, this past weekend had me feeling a strange sense of awareness that this girl isn’t too comfortable with.
Is is safe to say we live for some hair chair time? You know – salon days, beauty shop chat, etc.? If you do not then you need a new hairdresser or a Valium. I always make sure I have a hair appointment scheduled near my birthday. It is pampering and I love pampering just like the next person! My color is updated (I have some red in there now and I love it!) and my ends were cleaned up with the magic scissors. You must know I have the best hairdresser living so I love the fact I can sit in her chair and just say – Do whatever, Lizz! If you don’t trust your hairdresser you need to re-evaluate your life.
Now for the this is weird moment. When it came time for the cut she let me know I didn’t have much longer to have long hair. She reminded me generally, the older you get the shorter you go.
I know the perks of short hair but I’m not going backwards right now. You can believe that comment stuck with me all weekend long (hello it made the blog.) I plan to Jennifer Anniston this hair and stay long until I cannot stand it one bit.
Friday afternoon I participated in my oldest child’s school’s trunk or treat. If you know me you know I do not like volunteering at her school. I guess the typical blogger overly ecstatic for being a helicopter mom persona just does not fit me. I will gladly send in whatever the teachers need and if the teacher specifically contacts me to come help I’ll be there! When it comes time to actually go volunteer from a mass request – ugh. It hasn’t a thing to do with the school per say. It has more to do with the non school people. I’m not a “school mom”. My life doesn’t revolve around hanging out in parking lots with other moms, or being a daily fixture inside the school doing something because I’m bored at home.
I realize this is odd for a person in my age group. According to the t-shirt and sweat pant clad camo wearing women – my age group should spend all excess time doing something at the school.
This is a weird moment of realization because if you are made of a certain cloth you start questioning you mothering skills. Is there something incredibly wrong with me for not wanting to be around my child 24/7 by hanging out at her school to volunteer every day from drop off to pick up?
Nah. I’m good. Getting ornery in my old age.
Friday evening I spent at the neighbor’s place (it is a store and you’ll get more details this week on the blog as I start sharing a side of me you have no clue about.) I had no kids and I really had no idea what to do with myself. A Friday with both kids off with family members, one being my husband, what?
I chatted away with Ms. Tami. She has raised two daughters (grown now) and is in the process of raising three more girls. You must know Thursday night I became the person we vow we will never be – our own mothers. My daughter and I had it out. Of course it was over a majorly important and life altering topic – her room. She had three days to clean it and never did.
Readers, I am not happy to report this but I feel this is my confessional so here it goes –
Forgive me, readers, for I have committed some strange sin. Words came from my mouth such as – “When you have a kid you will understand!”
At thirty-four and a whole lot of change I said it. I said what my mom said to me and both grandmothers said to me at various times. I said that line, ladies. I said it. And when those words fell from my lips I kind of lost my breath.
In the heat of the moment I also said some other things that are overtly motherly. At this current time I do not remember them. The mother-deflected-guilt-trip has begun.
Back to the time at the neighbor’s place! Having known her history on raising two grown girls and now in the process of raising three more I had to ask if she had any tips on raising a prima donna/melodramatic young female. Her advice was priceless and worth sharing.
Just walk away.
Not just walk away from your duties but when it gets intense or the hormones are raging and causing the biggest hurricane of messed up estrogen known to man – walk away.
I am glad I am getting my new shoes today so I can walk away with limited Achilles pain.
This is weird though. Look, that’s my first baby the one I just knew would blow the scale apart with perfection (hahaha) and had no clue would be a biological nightmare from third grade until what? She turns twenty-five?
This is weird. It also makes me want to apologize to my own mom for whoever I was during the prepubescent years up to age legal.
But it wasn’t just the parenting topics that had me contemplating this weird place I am in. We also discussed numbers. She said a few things were weird for her even today and they included – When you realize you have been your married name longer than you were ever your married name. I.e. You were a Smith for 22 years and now you have been a Jones for 30 years. Or realizing you have been married longer than anything else in your life and how it has just worked out through whatever you had to go through.
I have been married nearly 10 years and that is weird. The first seven years are a blur.
Saturday we ventured to my old stomping grounds – Raleigh, North Carolina. I always get excited when Raleigh in our cards. I love it there. That is until I get there and realize what it was is no longer what it is.
At the football game I looked at the student section and wondered where my 20-24 years of age disappeared to. I listened the most annoying people behind me chatter and thought damn what a migraine you people are.
Then it hit – this is weird.
The people in front of us were in there sixties, the kids behind us twenties, in the middle – us the thirty somethings. Not seasoned like super hip shaker sixty year old man but not uncomfortable and awkward thinking we had it all together behind us.
This is weird! This is good! But this is weird.
Sunday I didn’t make it to church because I didn’t fall asleep until well after one a.m. See, these days I cannot hang until past midnight or I turn into a very grumpy pumpkin who feels like she has a major hangover. The catch? I don’t drink enough to get anywhere near a hang over!
I laid in bed – alone. My husband didn’t feel like showering so he slept in the other bed. We’re both old now! He was too tired to shower! I slept until 9 and woke up to write this post. As I was going over my calendar for the week: making sure I had my workouts in to try to kill off the carbs I ate at Cheesecake Factory on Saturday, managing my work schedule for the week, birthday events for myself and my mom, etc. I realized something else. This too is weird. I’m not sure how I got to this point where I am managing a home, small children I birthed, scheduling work outs because, managing a business, being a total grown up – but I can tell you this it may be weird as hell but I wouldn’t trade this awkward feeling for a thing. Every day of this life has been a major gift whether I have realized it or not and though I may be half way to seventy in a few days I will delight in every weird moment, feeling, because I realize every single second is a celebration of sorts.
If I don’t embrace it then…that’s weird.
Let’s have a great week, friends! I have a few posts coming at you this week and hope you will tune in!
Today I linked up with Johannah!Hello Monday