Sunday, September 29, 2013

The Magical and Dying Time of Year

Where I live it went from sweltering summer to winter weather with the tops of the mountains dusted with snow in no time at all.  What on earth happened to fall?  Cold nights.  Crisp mornings followed by sunny days and crunchy leaves.  Yeah, we didn't get any of that.  It's like taking a warm sleeping baby and dunking the poor dear in ice water, which fully describes the feeling I get when I roll out of bed in the morning.

Regardless, Fall is the bringer of birthdays at my house.  My entire family has a birthday one a month for the next three months, including me.  I am totally looking forward to turning 34.  It just sounds peppy.  35?  Not so much, but get me on those even number years and I can rock at any age.  So, as the sands of time drag down the lines around my eyes, I still find that my kids keep me feeling young.  Until tonight...

I have a pretty open communication system with my kids.  They tell me loads of stuff I don't want to know like what kid tried to give himself a mega wedgie involving a ruler and mathematical protractor.  Yeah, I'm still scratching my head over that one too.  Other times I want to know the details.  For example, my son wanted to know what that little funky feeling in his gut is when he sees this one particular girl AND if this is normal (he was worried the girl was making him ill).  These talks are interesting and entertaining.  Tonight it was hilarious.

My younger son is a very serious kid when it comes to the nightly talks.  He sat me down in his chair, got up on his bed, faced me and sighed.  I thought, oh geez, this is when he tells me the bad news.  You know the kind you hate to hear when you are a parent like: so this kid keeps pushing me around or someone touched me 'there' or whatever.  It's the stuff of mom nightmares.  While I am bracing myself for the worst (and trying not to freak out about it), he winds up by putting his hands up and saying:

Him: Mom, I really want to know.

Me: Okay?  Know what?

Him: Well, back when you were alive....

And that was as far as he got because I was on the floor laughing hysterically.  Am I dead?  Am I walking zombie mom of the living dead and passed on to the other side when I hit 30?  Who knew the dead could look this good?!?!?!

We got around to the question after a good long laugh.  Thankfully it wasn't the subject of mom-nightmares, but suddenly 34 is looking a little wrinkled and saggy.  Especially since I bit the bullet and bought my very first pair of skinny jeans over the weekend.  I still haven't worn them and now I am too chicken to.  What zombie wears skinny jeans!!!!

Ah, Fall.

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