On Aging….

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My son is sixteen today.  I feel very accomplished.

I thought, now he has achieved this milestone, that I would somehow feel older.  The honest truth is- I don’t.  I’m rapidly heading toward the “Over the Hill” birthday, and yet I still feel like an awkward and nerdy sixteen-year-old myself.  Does that ever go away?  The pimples never did, despite everyone saying they would.  I can admit this in public, because we all know it’s true.

The way I used to fret over this one freakish hair that sometimes grew on my chin.  Pfffft.  I was so naive.

All of this sounds depressing, but I’m not depressed at all.  I’m so proud, for whatever reason, I feel like I should be handed some sort of award.  Look at me!  Look at what I’ve done!  This overshadows the pride I felt the day he was born…and that was some crazy pride because he was the cutest baby that ever was.

I am now mother to a man.  A man who is taller than I am.  Who drives.  Who flies.  Who volunteers.  Who makes tacos.  Who thinks and plans more about his future than I EVER did.

If only this little man did his homework more consistently….but we will work on that!


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A random teacher I used to work with started following me on Twitter. Suddenly all the steps I took to never use personally identifiable information, pictures, etc. was made a waste of time. Twitter had a link to the blog, to the Instagram, to my safe and private life that wasn’t at all private.  What if she told somebody I know in real life? What if, horrors, they read something I wrote…found out who I really am?

I’ll admit, I panicked. In a moment my entire life of social media was deleted. I felt better for a few weeks. Now, inevitably, I am sorry.

The Great Deletion, as I will regretfully remember it, did lead to some reflection on my part.  Never a bad thing.  I do not need Twitter in my life.  Instagram is equally as useless.  Pinterest?  Maybe I’ll keep that one thing.  What I really want is to be heard, but not heard.  I know there are some who will find that statement to be ridiculous.  I agree.  It is ridiculous.  It is not ridiculous.  It is what it is, and it isn’t going to change.

I will blog if I want to.  I will decorate the blog with pictures of my dog and cats, with pink, with fluff.  I will not be sorry.

Let’s begin…I’d like to introduce you to my constant and faithful companion, Emma. She informs me it is time to go clean the kitchen.  She is right.