Excuse Me..."My Age is Showing"

How did over half a century fly by in such a seemingly short period of time and why does it also seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye?

My childhood was wonderful. My teens were awesome until my Mother died. My twenties were a self inflicted blur of stupidity.

I look in the mirror today and suddenly see a fifty one year old woman that could easily pass for fifty nine. (I try not to look in the mirror a lot)

Like a dummy I dropped out of college...and they didn't encourage me NOT to, actually I think they sent me a Thank you note.

I somehow stumbled along and was almost grown up by the time I hit thirty.

Had kids and enjoyed being a "Mommy." My kid's are all almost grown (in THEIR minds) and still call me "Mommy" when they have royally screwed up or want something they know they don't really deserve but would LOVE to have!

I can't complain.

I COULD, but who COULDN'T?

My only gripe is that getting old seems to kinda suck. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to still be gasping for breath after working like a demon all day and sawing corns off my pinkie toes at the end of a night.

It makes me feel young to still have something as cute sounding as "Pinkie Toes!"

I just seem to "Creak" more and sometimes need a few more pushes on the ole "Primer Pump" before I can get cranked up for my day.

I cut the front of our subdivision for the first time this year.

It turned into a two day job.

I mean it's not like the entrance to "South Fork" on the show "Dallas" but it WHIPPED MY BUTT...and it's just April for Pete's sake!

I am getting lazy in my old age.

I couldn't find any sunglasses around the house so I weed eated without shades. Crap flew into my eyes non stop for over a hour. I looked Asian because I was squinting so much. Got it done though!

Didn't cut the weed eater line off shorter than the guard after running out of line (and time) and it flew off and popped me a good one on the chin. Dang...yard work is giving me battle scars now.

It takes away from the wrinkles on my face so at least it's a win/win situation.

Dang...that's kinda sad too!

I gotta get more money for this gig.

Can you imagine that scenario in July when it is over 100 degrees and my hot flashes are working overtime ..."Dang Meno-cause, not helping either!"

So now I am approaching being called "Senior" again. It seemed a lot more fun in high school... It was ALWAYS cool to be called a "Senior" then!

I think I'll just consider it all "The School of Life." I liked it so much I did it twice.

Til next time...knowing one day I'll be the one to have that really cool walker with a basket , horn , tassells and different colored tennis balls on each front leg and be the one EVERBODY talks about among the ones that can remember.

COTTON

As always, click on photos to enlarge (my flaws)

Almost Half A Century Down The Road Of Life

Even the title of this blog terrifies me. It just can't be right! Am I really 48 years old? Where in the heck did the last almost fifty years go? Am I in a time warp? Did someone change the way we measure time? All these questions seem valid to me, and yet no one can give me the answer that I want and need to hear... "NO, you are MOST certainly not 48 years old.... somebody has been using the wrong calendar, and we are SOOO glad that you caught the mistake!" Granted, I weigh the exact same weight as I did in high school ( Thank the Lord frown lines and wrinkles don't weigh much). I guess the fact that I have been a server for 30 years should tip me off to the fact that I am speeding down life's highway like I was on the Autobahn in a high powered Mercedes. Well, somebody please point me to the nearest exit.... I WANT TO GET OFF!!! I really don't feel my age too often. I think working with twenty year olds six days a week, makes me feel like "one of the gang." They probably all laugh at me behind my back, and have some disgusting nickname for me like "ME-ME", or "MEE-MAW", and only use it when I have my day off! Granted I have some ailments that I constantly self-diagnose on the phone with my MUCH older sister at night; when we drink wine, chat on the phone, and I remind her of all the things she keeps forgetting ! Just kidding about that, she is an amazing 54 years young... looks better than me... she just can't remember squat sometimes.... that is why we always sit together at funerals.. so I can warn her who is walking up to speak to us, or remind her who just died.... Just kidding again... I love her dearly, and she is all the Mama I have left on this Earth. We will be talking at night, and I will mention "Ya know, my right thumb has been numb for about a year...what do you think it means?" To which she will reply, "Thank God you have that left thumb that is still fine...don't worry till they both go bad." I will say " You are EXACTLY right!" I have since diagnosed this as carpel tunnel from some of my more informed customers at work... they all had the same symptoms, so I have decided that is what my thumb problem is.. WHEW.. that was a relief, and I didn't even have to pay a Co-payment! My sister and I have pains in our neck and shoulders sometimes... another ailment we attribute to having kids that drive us crazy, and nothing to worry about! Two problems solved, about forty more to go! When you are a woman and a mother... especially a working mother, you just tend to forget about taking care of yourself, and just worry about getting through the work week, school year with the kids, or Holidays with the crazy relatives. Actually, I don't know how I have made it this far. I didn't go the the gynecologist for over ten years, till my sister threatened to take me herself. I made an appointment with a female Doc that I had heard was good, and marched my little 105 lb. frame right into her office like I had been going to her all my life. I was trying not to act nervous or scared... wondering what in the heck I had probably been self- diagnosing for ten years that had already eaten up half my brain or abdomen. The nurse came in, took vitals and blood work, told me to undress and wait for the doctor. I followed instructions, and awaited the "Doctor of Death" to come in and tell me that I was dying or had six weeks to live. She came in, a cheerful woman ( I figured that was her guise...fake me out). I had on my fancy little paper gown... scooted up to the edge of the table, and prepared myself for the worst. The nurse was beside the doctor, ready to assist. The doctor lifted my cute little paper number... stopped, looked up at me, and said " Mrs. Cotton, you still have your underwear on." I had totally forgotten to take them off, so I cracked my best quip... "well, it's been so long since I have been to a doctor, I thought by now you'd have some fancy dancy exray goggles you might wear, or some sterilized tongs that you could use just to move my panties to the side for a peek!" The nurse beside the doctor had to leave the exam room, laughing so hard that I could hear her in the hall . Fortunately everything was fine... except my total humiliation at having to walk out of that room knowing that every person in that office had probably already heard about my little "faux pas ". Needless to say, I am looking for a new doctor.... Hey! I have ten more years to look for one! Actually, I sucked it up and continued to go to this doctor, and needless to add... they remember me when I walk in the door. Even though the fifty year mark is speeding towards me like a tomahawk missile, I feel pretty blessed to still be as healthy as I am, in total control of all my faculties, and somehow making it to work six days a week, loving and enjoying my kids, and having the greatest husband a nutty person like me could ever hope for. Believe me you.. when fifty REALLY gets here... it is gonna be a party to remember... at least I hope I can. Till next time, COTTON