Ain't nobody looking at you

This past weekend my girls came home to celebrate my birthday, to celebrate my #1’s birthday.  You see, my #1's done this thing since she was born that I lovingly refer to as “high jacking my day”. It’s just crap. But I can’t totally take her down about this since I am partially responsible for when she was born and all that riff raff.  It used to get dicey around here during  birthday week, but being the mature mom, I let go and gave her a full 2 days, and I then I get a week. I'm always fair like that.   

As we were getting ready to go out and celebrate our birthdays I turned to her and said, “does this look okay?” and she replied with the most deadly statement ever:

“Yeah mom, you look fine. Wear whatever you want.” 
(Which is basically equivalent to: Ain't nobody looking at you.)

& then she turned to me with her hair held up and said, “up or down?”

(Uhmmm, hi I'm sorry, did you just blow me off and then ask me about your hair? yeah? okay, great, I just want to get that part straight.)

After my inner breakdown conversation, I did what any awesome mom would do, and picked the look I least liked, knowing that she would go with the other look…which is the one I actually liked the best. 

Why, you ask? Why must we play this game?

Because she is the daughter and I am her mother. And because this is what daughters do. They pick opposite. EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Age 2, 12 or 24, it doesn't even matter! It just is. I didn't create it, I don't love it, but I've got mad skills in this area. So, let's not judge okay? 

For some reason, this brief interchange has resonated with me all weekend. It was only further compounded when after my girls left the next day, my 2 year old nephew sang happy birthday to me but said my #1’s name! (Because yes, even when she's not here, She's high jacking my moment!) 

When I said, ”What? no, it’s my birthday!” he sang it all over again and ended with…”Happy birthday to…Jesus.”

Because yes, it’s true, people confuse Jesus and me all the time.

So here’s the truth: at 44ish –ain’t nobody looking at you.
But at this point in life, I'm totally okay with it. People, I've learned to roll with it and I'm here to help you prepare: 

#1, there’s a high probability that your gray is poking out the top of your head.

Because gray doesn’t lie down and obey. Gray is out of control and a free spirit among hairs. Gray just rebelliously stands alone doing its own thing. I swear that regardless of how intimate you have become with Garnier Medium Brown Nutrisse Shade 50, gray is still large and in charge. Hair dye be damned. You have failed.

#2, there is a high probability that you may sneeze, which means you may have also just wet your pants a little.

 I will not admit if this has/has not ever happened, but I've heard about it, okay?
 I mean, can we just all agree that you'd  feel a little cheated that at 44ish you have digressed to a 3 year old in the area of bladder control? I'm not bragging, but I’m rocking this whole grown up (and possibly grown “out”) thing in every other way.
So, why this Lord? It’s just so many kinds of wrong. Every time I hear, “...you give and take away…” I think, so maybe give back bladder control & take away belly fat! Yes. That seems legit. (& I’m so sorry if I just ruined that song for you:/)

#3, you may spend most nights prepping for bed by reading up on body temperature on WebMD 

Are ridiculously cold feet and simultaneous head sweats possible signs of a terminal disease or just middle age? All I'm going to say here is that I feel that it’s totally within reason to ask for my body to regulate temperature from head to toe. This is not asking a lot. I can go hot or cold, lets just be consistent. Is this so hard? I regularly say deeply romantic things to my man like, "if you love me you'll let me put my cold feet on you." Whaaaat?  Is this the regular night time ritual my marriage has been reduced to?  Yes. Yes it is. I currently have this re-occurring dream where I'm shaving all my hair off and I look down and I'm wearing 4 pairs of socks?  It’s all just too much to contemplate.

So yeah, nobody's really looking at you at this age, and its okay. Embrace the change. I mean look at me, I've grown up and matured so much that I can't feel my feet, I wet my pants at the onset of a cold, and I'm fighting the rebel grays daily. Its awesome.

But lets just all take a moment and focus on the fact that I’ve got a 2 year old calling me Jesus.

BOOM!

Failing Forward,

Pen

So Fit & Fluff!

As with so many things in our lives, my man and me are always on the same page.

Over the summer, he had an epiphany that he wanted to get in better shape, (because my gosh, he was such a gluttonous pig before) and put more effort into strength training. 

I applauded this ridiculous idea and said, "well of course, you should totally do this.." because I am a good and sweet wife and always a supporter of the most.ridiculous.idea.ever.

He then followed up this strength training craziness with the idea that he would also run a few more races this year, cause he'd been such a slacker and not really run as much as he should last year. Uhmm, yeah. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Can we get the intervention team together?

I'm like, fine babe, whatever. Run. Strength train. Do it all. But can you pass me a brownie or something?

Similar to me, my man is crazy disciplined. (Stop with the heckling! That's rude.) He doesn't ever agree to anything without serious thought and contemplation. There are no casual "yes's" to anything and he rarely gives an on the spot answer. 

We are so similar.

{**I cannot tell you the times early in our marriage that I would commit us to something only to have him say, "negative ghost rider, YOU just committed, I did not." These are always great moments in marriage, are they not?}

So why did I discount this conversation after 23 years of marriage? Why did I think he's just talking out his butt? Why people? Why??

I have no idea.

Except that I was probably hangry, and he kept talking to me.

Sigh...life.is.hard.

So here I am, preparing for the rainfalll that will surely border the great flood of Noah, and in tandem, my man is preparing for a 1/2 marathon on Sunday. Which is like 2 sleeps away, but people; we are in total "GO" mode.

Me, busy stocking up on necessities like queso & chips...

Him, plotting the course and creating a timeline of the next 41 hours. (No, Not 48 hours, we keep things exact around here!)

Every second counts here people, there may be a national weather event happening across our region, but my man made a commitment, and by golly -he's going to fulfill it. 

Just kill me.

So for your reading enjoyment, here's a piece of our conversation as of late:

Him: "It's been good practice to run in the rain, you never know what the weather will be like on race day."

Me: "Totally my thoughts."

Him: "Are you coming?"

Me: "And miss the opportunity to sleep in, or better yet be stranded in high water with snakes AND strangers? Of course I'm coming!"

Him: "They changed the course, have you figured out where you'll be yet?"

Me: "No. (Because it's 2 sleeps away, you freak of nature!) Do you want to eat Mexican food?"

Him: "Babe, I really need to eat pasta and carb load" (You awful, forgetful woman!!)

Me: "Of course, what was I thinking, I need to carb load too." (Totally the thought I had when I caught my reflection in the mirror as I got into the shower..."Penny, you need more carbs!")

Him: "I'm going to try and be asleep by 10, so I'll probably be in bed by 9 or so..."

People, I have 2 words: party.animal.

I know you are all jealous of my life. Who knew when I married this mullet man that he would lay down the party animal lifestyle for something as glorious as running & training & sleeping and eating schedules? 

Not me.

But I picked him, or he picked me, or we were having a baby, or something like that & so here we are...fit and fluff.(I shortened it, the "y" added extra weight I didn't need.)

He's fit.

I'm fluff.

And together we are always on the same page and equally committed to great causes.

Eat your heart out...(but share a little with me okay?)

-P