Two more days of freedom.
Then school begins.
Four more days of having a three year old living in my house.
Then, she turns four.
My knuckles look bony and my hand-skin is saggy. I’m turning into someone’s grandmother, only my kids are too young to procreate. My timing’s clearly off. First things first. I have to finish raising these kids into decent grown-ups. (Some days, I’m not up to the task.)
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll actually have something to say. Or not.
Actual Unretouched Photo 
Last summer I held my hand next to the hand of my 12-years-younger sister and was appalled at how much difference 12 years makes…I’m not enjoying the aging thing–trying not to dwell on it….
Mary
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At my house, we call age-spots…beauty spots! At my house, we call naps…blessed! At my house, we call loss of memory….downloading (making room for the overload of data each day holds)! At my house, we don’t speak of old hands….we speak of caring hands!
Now….I must tell you–I live alone in my house…..it’s a pretend house that holds all the hoped-for positive thoughts about aging! In the real world…I ache, I complain, I stumble, and I find it hard to see! BUT! it is…what it is! However, that’s not to say I haven’t tried every age-spot cream on the market!
Over the doorpost of my imaginary house…are the words of a profound sailor…..”I AM! What I AM!”
Going to take a nap now–in MY house!
Diane
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You’re not getting OLDER. You’re getting more mature!
Yeah, it didn’t work for me either.
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My math says that she turns 4 on Saturday. That’s a very fine day for a birthday.
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when i was 36 we went to houston for thanksgiving. my college roommate and i ran away to the galleria, leaving the the kids with the husbands. as we walked up some stairs i glanced down at my hand. kathy found me sitting on the step staring, heart broken, at said hand. she asked what was wrong and i wailed, “oh dear lord, look! my mothers old hand is hanging out of my jacket sleeve!” she laughed hysterically for about five minutes. and nineteen years later it is still one of her favorite stories.
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Hey! If you’re thinking you’re looking like a grandma, huh?, what about me??? I’m a lot older than you, hon. Nonetheless, we just got started a little late, that’s all.
So what if I’m 52 and my youngest is 8? ::sigh::
I’m happy and proud and having fun (just more slowly than I used to!).
🙂
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