Old!
by Stephanie Black
Thank you, Rob, for an awesome birthday blog that I’m going to print and save to show my great-grandchildren, who apparently should be arriving any day now. And thank you to everyone for the birthday wishes.
So yes, it’s true, I’m now older than I was, though thankfully, I didn’t receive one of those insurance company birthday cards this year. You know the ones—“Happy Birthday! You’re one year older now, which means you’re one year closer to death, so this would be a good time to think about life insurance, because, honey, you are SO mortal and that clock is ticking. TICK! TOCK!” And there’s a picture of the Grim Reaper on the front. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but I’m pretty sure that’s what those cards mean.
Ah, life has indeed changed from the days when I was a skinny young bride. I look at my younger siblings who are in the young-parent phase of life, with their preschoolers and toddlers and babies or babies on the way, and I get wistful and nostalgic and yearn for the days when my children were all tiny. Not! Ha ha! Better them than me! Enjoy those diapers!
Ahem. Sorry. I did enjoy my kids when they were little, and I didn’t really mind diapers—modern disposables are a marvelous invention. It’s amazing to watch children grow, to go from larval newborn to active little chattering toddler in the course of a single year, to mature and learn, to start school, to go through the incredible process of growing up. But I have no yearning whatsoever to rewind time, and I really enjoy having older kids (and not just because I have built-in babysitters and can go to the store without an entourage of tiny Huns, bless them). The wonderful thing about life is that there are blessings at every stage, and I’m very much enjoying the blessings of being—how old am I again? Oh yeah—fifty-eight, give or take a couple of decades.
We’re on the verge of transitioning into a new phase of life. My oldest daughter will start college next year, and my youngest daughter will start kindergarten. We no longer have kids in diapers, but we do have kids who can help me use an iPod and walk me through Facebook. I love having teenagers—they’re a lot of fun. Sure, we have moments of angst and grumpiness and irrationality, but that’s not surprising, considering that recent research has shown that adolescent brainwaves are remarkably similar to those of a squirrel listening to the BeeGees (I’m kidding. I only put that in so my daughters will see it when they read my blog).
And for the record, West High's violent reputation was undeserved in MY day. We had dignity in my day. We had big hair, Izods, and dignity.
Well, two out of three ain't bad.
Thank you, Rob, for an awesome birthday blog that I’m going to print and save to show my great-grandchildren, who apparently should be arriving any day now. And thank you to everyone for the birthday wishes.
So yes, it’s true, I’m now older than I was, though thankfully, I didn’t receive one of those insurance company birthday cards this year. You know the ones—“Happy Birthday! You’re one year older now, which means you’re one year closer to death, so this would be a good time to think about life insurance, because, honey, you are SO mortal and that clock is ticking. TICK! TOCK!” And there’s a picture of the Grim Reaper on the front. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but I’m pretty sure that’s what those cards mean.
Ah, life has indeed changed from the days when I was a skinny young bride. I look at my younger siblings who are in the young-parent phase of life, with their preschoolers and toddlers and babies or babies on the way, and I get wistful and nostalgic and yearn for the days when my children were all tiny. Not! Ha ha! Better them than me! Enjoy those diapers!
Ahem. Sorry. I did enjoy my kids when they were little, and I didn’t really mind diapers—modern disposables are a marvelous invention. It’s amazing to watch children grow, to go from larval newborn to active little chattering toddler in the course of a single year, to mature and learn, to start school, to go through the incredible process of growing up. But I have no yearning whatsoever to rewind time, and I really enjoy having older kids (and not just because I have built-in babysitters and can go to the store without an entourage of tiny Huns, bless them). The wonderful thing about life is that there are blessings at every stage, and I’m very much enjoying the blessings of being—how old am I again? Oh yeah—fifty-eight, give or take a couple of decades.
We’re on the verge of transitioning into a new phase of life. My oldest daughter will start college next year, and my youngest daughter will start kindergarten. We no longer have kids in diapers, but we do have kids who can help me use an iPod and walk me through Facebook. I love having teenagers—they’re a lot of fun. Sure, we have moments of angst and grumpiness and irrationality, but that’s not surprising, considering that recent research has shown that adolescent brainwaves are remarkably similar to those of a squirrel listening to the BeeGees (I’m kidding. I only put that in so my daughters will see it when they read my blog).
And for the record, West High's violent reputation was undeserved in MY day. We had dignity in my day. We had big hair, Izods, and dignity.
Well, two out of three ain't bad.
Stephanie Black — 12/10/2008 04:18:00 PM
6 comments
6 Comments:
I'm loving the stage we're in as well. Sometimes I walk past the diaper aisle, throw back my head, and laugh. Not that I hated diapers so much (I didn't), but I hated potty training, and the stage we're in now is so much more fun.
Let's hear it for big hair, Izods, and all the rest! Those were the days.
I have a toddler in diapers AND a teenager. What was I thinking?
There are days I prefer the teenager and days that I prefer the toddler. But I really enjoy my 12 year old and 8 year old the most. They are old enough to have conversations and do things for themselves but they haven't developed an attitude yet.
"You go to West?"
"Yes."
"But they stab and kill and are rude!"
Anon--ha ha! I forgot about that one.
Happy Birthday Stephanie.
I knew there was a reason I like your writing. it turns out we were born on the same day. Although I'm not going to reveal what year I was born. I hope your day was fantastically wonderful.
Happy birthday, Keith! And thank you! I hope you had a great day as well.
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