THINGS NO ONE EVER TOLD ME ABOUT GETTING OLDER #384

Kellogg's currently makes a lower sugar version of Fruit Loops. I'm ready for the high-fiber version. I'm sick of Raisin Bran. Sometimes I miss the ignorance of youth and long for the days when I chose my cereal based on taste and not fiber content. Sigh. . .

QUIT WHILE YOU'RE STILL AHEAD

There was a time when Chris and I had contemplated the possibility of increasing the size of our brood. A few years back, we had a long discussion about whether or not we wanted to have one more child. We ultimately decided that two was a good number for us, and as such, there will be no more niños becoming part of this Hale household. I knew I had finally come to peace with the idea when I was able to bring myself to getting rid of baby stuff. I wil admit that I have hung on to a lot of the girls' clothes from when they were little babies because I just can't bear to part with many of them. However, as my friends and relatives have had their babies, I have offered up high chairs, the swing, carseats, strollers, the playpen, Exersaucer, bouncer, etc. to those without. It was kind of difficult because to me it signified a definite end to a period of our lives - - no more rocking babies, giving bottles, hearing first words, seeing first smiles and steps....it was hard at first, but I knew it was the right thing for us. Before long, I felt peace with it. (Besides, I was amazed and excited when I saw how much room it freed up in the basement.)

As Chris tends to remind me, I would probably totally surrender if we had three kids. At least with two, we are even - - one more, and we would be outnumbered. What he is referring to though is the fact that my resistance has significantly weakened between child #1 and child #2. When Maggie was younger, I was much more apt to correct her conduct or give a stricter punishment for misbehavior. With Aleita, there are things that I find amusing that I used to hand out punishments for - - I know - - life is so unfair for the oldest child. I used to be able to control my laughter, but I think I have just gotten worn down.

Case in point - - a few nights ago, we had just finished having dinner. I was cleaning up the dishes, and Chris got up from the table and started to head downstairs to change the laundry from the washer to the dryer. He was about two steps out of the kitchen when Aleita let out a belch loud enough to wake the neighbors. There was a few seconds of silence that followed, which she broke with, “Whoa…that was a good one!”

Chris hightailed it back up the stairs to remind her that we say “excuse me” when we burp, and not “that was a good one,” as well as the fact that we don’t belch at the table. He arrived just in time to see me head into the bathroom, dirty plate and spatula still in hand. I had tried just turning my back to her, but I knew I was shaking uncontrollably with laughter and didn’t want her to figure out that her comment totally cracked me up. I was very close to letting out audible laughter, so I headed into the bathroom and set the plate and spatula down and flushed the toilet to cover the sound. After about a minute, I regained enough composure to rejoin them in the kitchen. Chris just looked at me somewhat disgustedly and shook his head and said, “You are so weak.”

I fully admit it. And as for that belch, she was right….it WAS a good one.

A FLY ON THE WALL

Sometimes it is interesting to hear what the kids talk about when they forget that I am only a few feet away from them. This morning, I took Maggie, Aleita and their friend, Marty, over to Sullivan to the Little Theater on the Square to see "Pinocchio." On the ride over, Marty and Maggie were discussing school, which begins next week, as well as various teachers. Marty, who is a few years older than Maggie, was giving her the DL on what to expect in second grade. They were discussing a specific teacher at one point, and Maggie asked, "is she young or old?" Marty said, "well, she's kind of old, I guess." Maggie needed further clarification: "Is she old like my mom, or old old like my grandma?" Turns out she is "old old" like grandma....in her 50s or 60s.

STEPPIN' OUT

I took Maggie shopping for a new pair of tennis shoes this afternoon. For about eight or nine months, Maggie and I have been wearing the same size shoe - size 7.5. No longer. Today she passed me up. The new Nikes we purchased for her today are 8.5. The size 8 fit perfectly, but realizing that to get any length of wear out of them, she would need some room to grow, we bought the 8.5. Yes, friends.....my 7 year old daughter wears a size 8.5 shoe. I think height wise, she is likely to pass me up by the time she starts third grade. Chris has laughed and teased me about Maggie wanting to borrow my clothes and shoes. I had to laugh today as I realized she is going to be borrowing his shoes, rather than mine in the future.

WHEN DID I BECOME ONE OF THE GROWNUPS?

It's kinda hard when you have those "Oh my goodness I am getting really old" moments. I had just such a moment last night. I had gone with some of my girlfriends to dinner and a movie, then back to my friend Barb's house for wedding cake and spiked punch, leftover from her daughter Neysa's wedding this past weekend. After we had eaten, Barb asked if we would like to see some of the pictures that her daughter Kalyn had sent via email from the wedding.

Having attended the wedding, most of the pictures and events from the big day looked familiar to me....that is, until towards the end of the pictures. There were pictures of the bride and groom and guests dancing and wearing crazy hats - - "they were doing the YMCA" noted Barb. I commented that I must have been in the bathroom while that was going on. But as the pictures continued, I realized that I wasn't waiting in line for the restroom when the YMCA dance was taking place. (though admittedly, there is no love lost from having missed this Village People wedding staple.) No, the reason I don't recall the YMCA dance is because we weren't there for it, nor for the following pictures that we saw where the DJ was done for the evening and Neysa's brother, Shay, brought out his keyboard and sang and played for the group. We missed that, along with the dancing and frivolity that ensued into the late hours of the night/early hours of the morning.

By 10:15PM, Chris and I had started yawning and getting tired - - we had both been up since about 6:30AM. By 11PM, Chris and I had headed for home to relieve our babysitter and to get some sleep. Only a few miles away, dancing and drinking and laughing and singing continued while I took off my makeup, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.

Until I saw those pictures last night, I still felt like one of the "young ones" at the wedding. Those pictures very soundly drove home the point to me that I am indeed, getting further removed from "the young group" every minute. Deep breath and a realization - - - we were at that wedding not because we are friends with the bride and groom, but because we are good friends of the bride's PARENTS. We are friends with the bride and groom, don't get me wrong, but we are actually very good friends with Barb and Greg, Neysa's parents.

It doesn't seem that long ago that Chris and I would have been the ones helping close the place down at 2AM. Now the thought of staying awake until 2AM sounds completely foreign to me. The spiked blue punch at the wedding was tasty, but I stopped after a few glasses because I didn't want to feel crappy the next day. I opted to sit out the majority of the dancing in favor of sitting and talking at our table with friends. While many of the party revelers were undoubtedly snoozing the next morning, I was on my way to church to teach Sunday School. Wow....when did this happen? I think adulthood crept up on me when I wasn't looking.

CAN SEE YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING?

They say that with age comes wisdom. Unfortunately, with age does not come better eyesight. Quite the contrary, in fact. In recent years, I have had more difficulty seeing at night, particularly when driving. A few years ago, I broke down and got glasses to improve my night driving vision, and all was well. This year when I went to have my eye exam and get new glasses, the doctor told me that my astigmatism was one degree worse than it had been, but, good news! my nearsightedness was the same as it had been on the previous visit.

For those of you who do not know, astigmastism is a medical term that means if you want contact lenses, you are going to pay through the nose because they are a lot more expensive than the regular ones. OK, actually it has to do with the shape of your cornea - - your cornea is supposed to be shaped like a sphere, but in people with an astigmatism, it is shaped more like an ellipse, thus making regular contact lenses unable to work for those of us with our weird-shaped corneas. An astigmatism makes it more difficult for the cornea to focus light and has a tendency to make things, like in my case, signs on the roadside, blurry and hard to read.

For the last several years, I have been content to have my driving glasses in the car - - and it's not to say that I can't drive without them, but I know that I obviously see better when I am wearing them. I will fight tooth and nail before having a restriction placed on my drivers license for having to wear corrective lenses to drive. A few years ago, a friend of mine went to the DMV to renew her drivers license, and she too wanted to leave that pesky corrective lenses restriction off her card. As she took the eye test sans glasses, she read a row of letters in the machine and the technician deadpanned, "would you like to guess again?" She begrudgingly dug her glasses out of her purse and reread the line perfectly. Her license now bears the big "R" for her vision. At the time, I said to her, "It's not like you don't always have your glasses on anyway? What's the big deal?" But I think I am beginning to understand.