I am how old?

Sometimes it creeps up on and says "boo". My age, that is, or shall I say a reminder of my age. So often I write my birthdate down and to me it seems completely normal and young to have been born in 1967. Then my kids say "wow mom...you were born in the 60's?" Yes. Yes, I was. This year I will be 40 and even I cant believe it.

When I was a teen, 1967 was a cool year to be born. I had friends born in 1965 or 66 and I was the youngest. Ugh. Who wants to be the youngest when you are a teen? Certainly not me. But...when I wrote down my birth year, it was still quite OK.

Now....what I feel the 60's were is the 80's. Twentysomethings. How did it happen that I am just eeking out the ability to say thirtysomething? What happened to 18?

So, yeah...I cant believe I am 39. Wow. Ho hum. I am sure one day...decades ahead...I will say, "hey! wasn't I just nearing 40?" (gulp)

The Bug

The "bug" has paid my house a visit this week. Insidiously creeping into our bodies and taking up residence until "evicted". Horrid. One by one we succumbed to it, questioning who ate what and where...looking for something to blame. "cheese" we deduced. Who knows.

Children that can't share a couch...shared a bathroom, still crazily unbelievable to me. I have Lysoled, scrubbed, washed and wiped...to no avail. We surrender. Then the calendar page flips and all goes back to normal. We eat toast and ginger ale, as if they were a holiday buffet. And we laugh. We remember.

To Chauncey: heal my friend...both outside and in. Hang in there, take it a day at a time! {{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}} and prayers.

Time Marchs On

I was looking at my second oldest daughter (child) yesterday. She is 21! Where did time go? I remember her as a baby and nursing her to sleep. And now...she is a woman. Grown, a junior in college, strong. How can decades have passed? When did I become a "grown up?" Time just marches forward without a care of our desires or wishes to just "hold up". It wont. It refuses to wait a second.

Which leads me to the future and how fast will decades slip-slide past me? I want to sit still for a minute. I want to hit "pause", I want to breathe in many moments, and yet there are times that I am glad to see evaporate.

All leading me, again, to the incessant need I have to halt what I can and get it all down on paper. I want to go through past photo albums and scrap them all. Pull out memorable pictures and tell their story. My oldest daughters album , i am sure, is FULL of acid and all those photo unfriendly things. So....I make plans. Plans for an album for each child (phew) and one for me. One to tell my story. cuz...time marches on.

Baby Days

I spend a lot of time nursing my baby. She eats/sleeps a good deal of the day, especially when the house is quiet. I try to sneak away and lay her on the couch...surrounded by pillows so she wont fall off. When i am able to get up I catch up on cleaning, cooking or scrapping. My scrapbook supplies are in the corner of my kitchen right now. So i can grab them quickly and do a page or organize the next one. I feel a lot of personal accomplishment when I am able to create something during my day. All the cooking and cleaning is perpetual and therefore has no relevance or significance to me.

But, at this stage in my life....I spend a lot of time looking and gazing and adoring the face of my baby girl. Watching her sleep and nurse and doze in utter bliss. Without a care in the world.