No. Seriously.
I can literally think of 1 million things to write about, but we'll try to keep it to the most important.
Ready?....
Night cream.
I know. With the giant time lapse in between my postings, Donald Trump running for President, and the latest (awesome) supreme court rulings, I deem night cream the most important?
It might be the wine.
Anyway, lately, I'm consumed with the fact that I'm almost 40. In so many aspects, it seems so abstract to me. 40's pretty old. Definitely adult territory. Let's review, I'm still shocked that people assumingly smarter than I am (eg: nurses, doctors and other such medical professionals in charge of such things), let me take my son home - BY MYSELF - WITH NO MEDICAL OR LEGAL INTERVENTION - a little over 8 years ago. (Friends will tell you I celebrate M's Birthday by stating "I've kept him alive 'insert birthday here' years!!"). I mean, I still have thoughts of "really? I'm old enough to be a parent?"
In so many ways, I feel young. I haven't found my calling. Angels haven't sung to me in deference to some profession or extracurricular activity (although, theater is very close) that I am destined to do. I haven't made a million dollars. I don't have all the answers. Most days I judge if I'm an adult by the amount of dirty dishes I have in the sink (one side = acceptable. Two sides = iffy. two sides and counter = you need to move back in with your parents.) I just don't FEEL like an adult. I have all the adult responsibilities - I have a kid, a mortgage, pets, a car payment, need to mow my lawn (thank you neighbor kid), taxes, 401 K (that none of us understand. Can we just all agree on that point?) I have gone through 2 divorces (although, both of them have been relatively smooth). I have several degrees. I have a career (I think. I've worked at one company for over 10 years and have been promoted several times). But, I have yet to reach the goal of feeling like "Oh, Yeah! I am an adult!"
Case in point - my father and step mother came to visit last week. My father (who has been called a lawn Nazi in several circles), rolling his eyes at my (admittingly) abysmal (yet spacious) backyard, determined he was going to weed wack my fence. (God love him). Upon looking at my 10+ year old battery operated weed wacker, my Dad decreed "That isn't a weed wacker. That is a toy. You might as well let M [who is 8] use that." Then, off we all traveled to the closest big box improvement store.
After informing me of various other lawn maintenance items I needed (fertilizer (which in my experience just makes weeds grow) and weed killer (which may solve my a fore mentioned problem)), my Dad led me to the weed wacker isle. (I kid you not. There is an entire isle. Who knew?) After discussing 2 stroke vs 4 stroke (which makes a difference in how you put oil into the motor*), curved vs. straight, attachments, line length, line girth**, etc. He finally determined a model that was suitable for me (eg: that he felt comfortable I wouldn't break or destroy in a reasonable amount of time). We went to the register and he made a deal with me where he paid 1/2, and then came back to my house and my 62 year old father weed waked my back yard among other things that I had neglected.
- * (how did I work in automotive for almost 10 years and not grasp this concept?)
- **(neither one of us were able to keep it together while discussing line girth. Just so you know the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).
So, in case you didn't have the ware with all to read that entire thing, let me sum up:
-I am 40, with an 8 year old child.
-My dad still visits from time to time to buy me power tools and do basic home maintenance.
You can now see my dilemma with me thinking I am an adult.
The skin on my face, however, has no dilemma. It knows I'm 40 and is anticipating 50 and 60 all at the same time, all the wile preparing for the future (women in my family tend to live to at least 100).
Bags under my eyes, OMG where did those wrinkles come from? And what do you mean I can't wear blue sparkly eye shadow anymore????!!?!?!?!
Looking into the mirror tonight, I realized the only answer.
Night. Cream.
There are so many kinds. Stuff that will target wrinkles, dryness, dark circles, skin pigment unevenness, etc.
All with promises that if you smear it on for a week (or more) straight, it will cure what ales you. And, maybe if the wrinkles, dark circles, and pigment issues (of which - I have all of the above) may be true.
But, what about the inside?
What will 'finally' make me feel like an adult?
My son being happy? Oh,, Christ. That's a day to day achievement. I don't think that will ever end.
My advancement? In what? Work? Social standing? How my family views me?
Nah. I think all of those things will be ongoing throughout my entire life. Which means, that I will be the 'child' until my parents need me to make the decisions for them. And then after than until my Son will need to make the decisions for me.
I guess in many ways it's a positive thing. We use night creams, make up, surgery, exercise, etc. to make ourselves feel forever young. But, in my my life alone? The responsibilities and the relationships keep me young.
M hugs me and tells me I'm the best mom ever. I look at his 8 year old face (just getting ready for 3rd grade) and realize that I have so many groups, classes, milestones, proms, dates, graduations, college majors, weddings yet to go through. I suddenly am glad I don't feel so old.
(I did schmeer on a little regenerast cream I got as a sample tonight though...Just in case...)
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