HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY DIVA!   Cara and I have been friends for almost 9 years - that means I met Diva half-a-lifetime ago (well half her lifetime anyway!)  It's is so awe inspiring to watch that little girl grow up into a sophisticated young woman who now drives - it's crazy. Have a happy crazy wonderful day Diva! 

Two weeks from now, my boy will be 15 - again I can't believe it. Each year I watch him get taller and taller (not taller than me yet) and think where did he come from? This big guy - who is still so much my little boy. 

Yesterday my dog, Bali, who will be 16 in June, fell down the stairs.  I heard her come down - and I knew it was bad.  By the time I got to her, she couldn't stand and had no use of her back legs.  She was stunned, probably in shock, and really not too aware of her surroundings.  I picked her up, carried her to her bed and just waited to see what she would do next.  She tried to stand - tried to walk, but couldn't.  I called the vet and brought her in - fully expecting to come home empty handed.  I cried all morning - I cried at the vet - my kids were crying,  I was telling them stories about how I picked her out at a flea market in Johannesburg, South Africa.  I took her with me to my first sonogram appointment when I was pregnant with Sam.  She came to a Hugh Makasela concert when she was just a puppy in Soweto - she even peed on Winnie Mandela's lawn when she was a few weeks old.  This dog and I have history together.  She was there when all three of my children were born - she slept under their cribs and barked at me to come when they cried.  She dutifully cleaned up after them when they dropped their food from the high chair.  My kids don't know life without her and neither do I.  The vet was a lot more optimistic than I was. They x-rayed her - nothing broken - drugged her up and sent her home.  She seems to have a concussion and some bruising on the spinal column - but should get use of her legs back in a few days or so we hope.  I thought I was ready to let her go - but I realized today I am not - and I don't think I ever will be.

Where does the time go?  Year by year it slips by.  Birthdays and anniversaries and the start and stop of the school year.  It marches on - and whether we want to or not, we are marching right along with it.

Cara's two cents: OMG about Bali (will call in a little bit) and Diva says thanks for the plug!!!

Jenn: Middle Ages or Why getting old Sucks
I am having one of those days - you know the kind - you scream at your kids, you're tired, your back hurts and there is still 20 loads of laundry to do. I don't really have an issue with aging numerically - being 40 has been empowering. I have a great family and a great set of girlfriends. I talk less and listen more. I am more patient. I let my opinion be heard. I think I look pretty good most days. What sucks about getting older is the physical aspect. My hair is gray - underneath the dye-job I get every 4 weeks. Weight goes on more easily than off. My back hurts. I am tired in the middle of the day. I can't READ the FINE PRINT. I was told I need Progressive lenses - that is a nice way of saying BIFOCALS - bifocals are for old people - I am not old, I have a child in first grade. I have dark circles under my eyes. I have crows feet and those parenthesis are starting to form on my face. I have lines on my forehead. I have flappy underarm things. I can't remember where I park my car some days or where my keys are. I have joint pain after playing with my kids. I have adult onset acne - I sailed through the teenage years without a pimple and yet here I am sharing Clearasil with my 13-year-old son! I am having HOT flashes and still get my period - that is just not fair. I am taking each day as it comes, trying to improve my diet, to improve my physical being, to enjoy my children and my life, to have more good days than bad and to get a new bed so maybe my back won't hurt when I wake up. 40 is not the new 30 - because I didn't have these issues in my 30's - I was busy having babies! As my 75-year-old Dad says getting old isn't easy but it's better than the alternative.

That phrase used to conjure up images of knights in shining armor, wandering minstrels, kings, queens, and breath taking castles with moats. How is it that I find myself here now? I don’t see any chicks with crowns at Stop and Shop. But here I am. I stumbled upon that realization this week.

My parents were staying with us for Easter. They’ve retired upstate (for now) and come down for holidays or for nothing and stay here in my guestroom/office. They are good eggs, helpful, mostly fun to be around, get along well with the hubby. My children are their only grandchildren so of course they are “all that” and a bag of chips as far as they are concerned.

So in the midst of this love fest there I lie…in the middle. The middle generation. Middle aged. Old enough to have a mortgage, eye cream and those magnifying reading glasses you get in the drug store. But not old enough to have nothing to do but watch the news, buy lottery tickets and admire my grandchildren. Not young enough either to burst into the house, plop my ass at the dinner table and wonder aloud “whatta we eatin’?” or sleep until noon ‘cause I can.

I am the child and the parent. Editing what I say in front of the parents because they really don’t need to know all the gory details of my night out with the girls. Besides I don’t want to hear how did I really
“ need to be going up to the local bar? It IS Good Friday after all!” Shushing teenagers who think 11:30 pm is not too late to be running up and down the halls laughing while their grandparents are sleeping behind that bedroom door!!!!!!!! Making sure all meals are home cooked…no take-out this week. Don’t you know how much money you waste not cooking dinner home seven days a week???? So I juggle 90 balls in the air to keep the older and younger generations happy, smile while I hear what I just did wrong when I disciplined my son,(I did say yes when asked if I wanted an opinion after all…I’m sorry I didn’t know I had a choice!!) all this while trying not to run screaming from the building.

Looking through photo albums this week also made me realize I think Middle Age arrived when I wasn’t looking. I certainly didn’t invite it. I see that young mom in those pictures…she looks frazzled with two very small children but I’ll be dammed if I see a line or wrinkle on her face. I know I can’t say the same about the person that looks back at me in the mirror now.

But when I look in the mirror I may see lines and I don’t like it. But the lines are from years of laughing ‘til my sides ached, crying until my heart broke, getting so mad I couldn’t see straight, or kissing my kids until they squirmed to get away. They tell the story of my life, the good and the bad. But it’s my story and my life. I wouldn’t change a line.

And really what are the “middle ages” anyway? Forty-something is middle aged if I plan on living to Eighty-something. But with medical technology what it is and will be, I could live to 100+ then I will be middle aged in my 50’s…does that mean I am just a spring chicken? I’ll take it.