Getting Older and A Little Story

It's a pain getting older.

I am reading a book recommended by my good friend Gayle: "What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Menopause." I stopped by the health food store yesterday and picked up Wild Yam Cream, a multivitamin chock full of good stuff that will help my adrenal glands, and some calcium with magnesium. Apparently when your adrenals are working well, it alleviates most other bothersome things -- like allergies, fatigue, etc.

Now I'm only 49 -- ONLY 49? Ten years ago I thought that was old. Now I feel very young. My doctor recently commented "age is only a chronological designation." Thank goodness for some reassurance that I'm truly, truly not getting old.

My body is just aging.

My Mama, who is 70 this year, just had an excellent health checkup because she is taking care of herself. She is really very healthy, despite a pacemaker and being a cancer survivor. My Mama is one of the most occupied -- not really busy, but always doing something -- people I know. She helps at her local church's preschool, teaches a bible study, and can look into my fridge at any given moment and produce a 3 course dinner. She even spent a week once going over and helping out a new mom -- a young girl from her church! Pretty amazing.

Just to tease her recently about her pacemaker (and because she is always doing something), I said this to her:

"Mom, you are one of the laziest people I know. Can't even get your heart to beat!"

We had a good laugh about that one. And she is a good example to me -- because now it's also me that's dealing with high cholesterol, blood pressure, and weight. I am no longer the cute young thing that has most of her life ahead of her.

That person would be any one of my daughters!

Speaking of which, one is having a birthday today. I am no longer the mother of anything except teenagers.

We tried for 3.5 years to get pregnant with the twins. And then we had not just one, but two! Barbie came on their heels just 15 months later (we didn't know if it would take another 3 years, so we started trying right away). Then, two years after her, came JB.

Now JB was the last baby. We agreed. Hunk O Man asked me if I wanted to permanently remedy the situation with additional surgery when I had my c-section to have JB. I declined; I had climbed on enough tables and had enough injections to make my body work right. I didn't want to purposely make it work "wrong."

So we, having had to work so hard to get pregnant the first time, opted for the stupid method. We just watched the calendar. Because when it takes all the work to get pregnant the first time, you can never be surprised.

Uh huh. Right.

I remember that unlike the other girls, I didn't tell Hunk O Man I was pregnant until I was almost 3 months+ along. We went on vacation and I kept waiting for the right moment -- which really just never came.

I was out to dinner with my girlfriends one night, and I asked "Have you ever done something really stupid that you don't know how to tell your husband about? Like wreck the car, or run up a bunch of bills on the credit card?"

My best friend Chari looked right at me and said "What have you done?"

I paused, gulped, and then spilled. And then I realised that I couldn't have my girlfriends knowing what Hunk O Man didn't know. So I told him when I got home. Crying, sad, apologising all the while.

And 3 weeks after she was born, Hunk O Man went and permanently took care of the situation. His philosophy was that minivans only hold 7 people on average. So that was that.

Her name wasn't decided until I was leaving the hospital and had to decide. And because she was a little surprise, her first name is the same as JB's middle name. Her middle name is the name we'd chosen if we ever had a boy.

God just sometimes has different plans than we do. And sometimes they completely delight you, like our Babydoll.