I'll Never Buy Metamucil

I am not old.  Old age is relative.  I am younger than a large number of people, however I am very aware that each day that number goes down.  Each day, more people are added to this world, and they will always be younger than me.  With age comes experience.  From this experience, I realize I've added a new food group to my diet.  This food group contains all the things my younger self said I'd never do...like buy Metamucil.

Evidence that I am old:

Instead of counting beers, I count grams of fiber.
I keep Tums in my purse, glove box, and desk.
I have trouble reading the directions on the back of packages.
I'd rather have a new vaccum, than perfume or jewelry.
I feel wild when I stay out past 10pm.
Buying items in bulk gives me a sense of security.
In my contact list, I have more doctors than friends.
Kroger Pharmacy sends me a Christmas card.
I say, "We didn't have ________ when my kids were little."
All my pants have STRETCH somewhere on the label.
I own more SPANX than lingerie.
I enjoy Southern Living more than Glamour.
Victoria's Secret officially took me off their mailing list.
I complain about loud music.
Elastic pants aren't as ugly as I once thought.
Comfort trumps style.


When I married Chris, I owned a 1987 Dodge Shadow (The Cher-dow).  It was on life support after I abused and neglected the poor thing throughout my high school and college years.  By the summer of 1997, the ceiling fabric doubled as drapery, the air conditioner worked only on odd days after 6pm, the glove box mysteriously popped open at 55 MPH, and the windshield wipers worked independently when they were not tangled behind the side mirrors.  So needless to say, I looked forward to a new(er) car.  I was 21 and my standards were understandably low.  We bought the first car we test drove.  Truth be told, I was too nervous to drive such a nice car, so Chris was the driver.  Let me tell you, that 1995 Ford Taurus was one hot car.  It was maroon with gray fabric seats detailed with rainbow trimming.  It had 4 doors, a trunk that latched, a horn that worked, windows that rolled both up AND down electrically, sunglass holder, a cassette player that successfully ejected tapes, and........a cup holder!!!  I .thought I was the bomb diggity.  Several weeks later, I was "rolling" in my new, sweet Taurus when a guy in the car next to me caught my attention.  He turned down his radio and said, "Nice car, Grandma."  At that exact moment, I became the oldest 21 year old on the planet.  I also said I would NEVER drive an old lady car again.  I ate those words when I drove off the car lot with my first full sized Suburban with my two car seats and a double stroller taking up the oversized cargo space.  Then I went back for seconds when I traded that one in for yet another full sized Suburban.  I am now the proud owner of a very sporty, Jeep Wrangler 4x4 in Red Rock with the Freedom Top.  I like to think it makes me look 10 years younger  Well....maybe 5 years younger since it does have those two extra doors, but no car seats or strollers!!!

Last week, Chris and I took the girls sledding on a nearby golf course.  We stood at the top of a hill alongside a group of college kids.  In an attempt to prove my youth, I grabbed the sled and was the first one to zoom down the hill.  As I neared the bottom of the hill, I realized I had no control over the sled as a pine tree threatened to split me in two.  I bailed off the sled, arms and legs flailing, and flopped into a snow drift.  If I had been younger, I would have laughed and bounced up immediately.  Instead, I laid there for a second and did a quick scan for broken limbs.  During my quick scan I noticed that the crowd at the top of the hill was oddly quiet.  Proof that I am old.  If I had not been a mother of two in my mid thirties, my fall would have been hilarious.  When I finally made it back to the top of the hill, one of the college kids asked me if I was okay.  She had an honest look of concern.  To add insult to injury, at that moment, I realized she was one of my former 5th graders.  We soon left to embarrass ourselves with people our own age.......and their kids. 

I know I am not yet over the hill.  I am however approching the crest of the hill.  I certainly home when I get to the top of the hill, my decent to the other side will be a little more graceful than the last hill I attempted.  If it is painful and ugly, at least do me the favor of laughing.