Am I Old Enough To Be a Grandmother?

Today is my birthday. Yes, happy birthday to me. Shawn is out of town this week, so I am celebrating amongst animals this year. Polli, Gonzo, the fish and I will enjoy some cake and ice cream...OK, so the fish are dieting and will stick to their pellets, but I'll share with the Fids (furry/feathered kids).

So, I'm 34. I'm fine with that. After all, isn't 30 the new 20? I think that makes me phat or sick or off the hook fo-shizzle, dogg... or something like that. Thank goodness I'm 34 and not 24 as I don't think I could manage the texting lingo. (I pause for a moment and wonder what kind of new overuse injuries will be discovered from the texting revolution).

Do I feel older? I don't know. No, not really. I feel like I've spent the past year chasing down notaries and worrying about doctor's letters. I haven't had time to think about getting older...and not caring one way or the other. I'm not getting carded as much anymore if that is a sign of age. Some days I'm insulted if they forget. Other days, I'm insulted if they remember.

Yes, my metabolism is slowing; I'm no longer struggling to keep weight ON. Granted, I have no weight problem and am pretty happy with everything except for these lumpy things showing up on my thighs. Gone are the days of eating whatever I want. Sigh.

Yes, I can see the veins in my legs; I woke up to new spider vein the other day after scratching my leg in the night and waking to a horrible burning pain where I scratched. Is that really how they happen? Sigh.

Yes, I can see where I had been squinting...several minutes after I stopped squinting. Oops. I guess I should stop straining at my computer screen. I made a bee line for the "Anti-Aging" aisle after this discovery. If there is one thing I would like to put off as long as possible, it's wrinkles. I picked up some sunscreen, too. Gone are the days of baking in the sun. Sigh.

Other than these things I guess I'm OK with getting older. Most people think I'm younger, which means I'm older, but not getting the respect that I thought I would earn as I aged. I suppose I need to pick my battles.

Here is something that dawned on me the other day that I had to pull out a calculator to accept:

When my mom turned 34, she was a grandmother for the first time by 4 days. 34. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that my mom and sister were young mothers.... Here I am turning 34 and I question myself every minute of every day whether I am capable of being a good mom -setting aside my selfish actions, laziness, personal priorities-to make this little person number one. I couldn't begin to imagine how difficult that must be at such a young age when it was kind of their job to be irresponsible, immature, messy, lazy, careless and without priorities.

I guess it's this revelation that made me realize that we're built with a defense mechanism that makes us want to put that little person first and that outfit at Nordstrom second...and the free pass to make mistakes while we figure out what the heck we're doing. So scary. A dog is hard enough to figure out!

So, here I am in the picture above (earlier this year...I don't have anything new) along with my mom and sister all at 34 (My sister and I don't really get along, so she'll be so glad to know that I broadcasted her picture across cyberspace). As for my mom, she says she doesn't know how old she is in this picture...but we'll give her a free pass to say that she's 34 here. I think a grandma of a 23 and almost 20 year old...and soon to be grandma of a 15 month old, has earned a get out of jail free card.

As I head off to enjoy my chirp/bark birthday party, I thought I would say goodbye as though I were 24 instead of 34. I did some warm ups first so as not to injure my thumbs. Here goes...

TTFN FNs OMG DAT WZ HRD TNT