The time when all the students wants points for just showing up. I’d be willing to give it to them, if they’d do me the same favor, but as it is, they’d take the credit, smoke it, and then I’d get fired for passing out impossible drugs.
I had one of those bizarre ‘I’m as old as my parents’ moments yesterday. It was sort of a hard day anyway…I took the kids straight from daycare to my grandmother’s birthday (yup, it’s on St. Patrick’s day:-) and essentially, locked them in the car for an hour and took them to the ‘don’t touch that’ place. It was sort of a bummer…they were running around like bees who’d been sipping Jolt Cola and all I really wanted to do was visit with my family. Anyway, one of my (much) younger cousins asked how old Grandma was. She’s 87.
I started doing the math.
That would have made her 46 when I was born.
My mom turned 19 the day after I was born.
Chicken will turn 19 the week before I turn 46.
And I could be a grandma.
I feel cold prickles and black spots dancing in front of my eyes just writing that–and my kid’s pretty savvy about your basics of growing up, saying no, and prepping for the alternative–not that she’s got any options yet (hell, she hasn’t even noticed that her cousin and bestest best friend is a boy) but Mate and I were very proud of getting engaged, married, and pregnant in precisely that order, especially since it wasn’t an established precedent on our families, and we were hoping for the same thing for our children.
No one ever tells you (and they should) that keeping them from drinking bleach and running into traffic naked and using the neighbor’s bush as a lavatory are only the beginning of the whole ‘cold-sweats-of-parenthood’ thing. I want to be at least 50 before I’m a grandma…I need to take that trip to Europe first so I can then squander all of my disposable income on the red wiggly thing that I can give back to mama when it’s defecation date expires.
*whew* Well, enough of that worrying!
Oh yes–I wanted to tell everybody that I DID visit your blogs after school today (Bells, Roxie, Mother of Chaos–you guys!) like I always do, and my computer wouldn’t let me connect. Just so you know, I was going to write TOTALLY brilliant, unforgettable comments on all of your blogs, but I was thwarted by technology once again. Julie, you got my comment–not so brilliant, but then you were my first of the day. (LOL)
And now, I’m going to go make like an eggplant in front of the television. My eyes are burning holes in my head, and it’s knitting time… baby socks, baby socks, mama’s makin’ baby socks, baby socks, baby socks, mama’s makin’ baby socks…baby socks! (Now get that out of your head!!!)
Yeah, I’m older than my mother was when I first realized she was an old, old woman. Now I know that old people are only about ten years older than I am, no matter how old I get.
You are doing a great job with your kids! Not drinking bleach is a crucial survival skill!
Seeing all you do at school probably also makes facing the teenage years with your kids a little more scary. You know what it is like out there! The difference is that your kids have parents who love them to be there no matter what comes.
I agree with Roxie about the relative age thing. My son just turned 25 and is worried about getting old. I don’t want to ask where that leaves me 🙂
Chick, when I was a kid I thought 30 was soooooo old!!! I was sure I was going to die before I got that old. *snort* Ok now my oldest child is 27 and still regularly says there’s no hope of my having grand kids from her because the world is already overpopulated … blah blah blah. I’m 48 and think its never going to happen, sigh.
hugs and just get the husby to answer the front door to your daughter’s dates in his underwear (its a funny aussie ad) and that should scare away all but the most determined.
It’s the first day of spring. A time of renewal.
The truly scary part comes from the fact, you could be a grandparent now. (Not implying or saying you will be, just saying it’s possible.) I know, I’m not much of a help…