The year of turning 60

It’s finally dawning on me….this is the year I turn 60. Yes….60. It wasn’t that long ago (or so it seems) that I couldn’t have imagined reaching the age of 20 because it seemed like a lifetime away. I remember when my grandparents were 60. I remember when my parents were 60. My friends and I have often had the “We can’t believe we’ll be 60” discussion. It’s a little weird, because on one hand, while 60 may not sound so old…on the other hand, it’s like, uggh 60. So, here are some ponderings on turning 60.
I should have listened to my mother more and not easily dismissed certain things she would tell me about getting older. She was just trying to prepare me for becoming older, and I brushed it all off. For instance: As a woman becomes older, she will get whiskers. True. Keep your tweezers handy at all times. As a woman becomes older, she won’t need to shave her legs as often. True. You might think this is because the leg hair quits growing, but I have found that is not the case. It turns grey…just like the hair on top of your head. Oh, let’s touch on the grey hair. Sure, you might think it won’t happen, or you might just decide to color your hair. Well….at some point, you look in the mirror and realize you are going to look like a skunk if you keep coloring, as fast as that grey is coming in. Do yourselves a favor, and just let it turn grey…it’s a lot cheaper that way. Which leads me to more thoughts on the hair.
Mother said as a woman gets older, she should keep her hair shorter. It will make her look younger. True…the weight of the long hair pulls your wrinkles down. Oh, and don’t think wrinkles won’t happen…I already have my mother’s neck. But I also have her shoulders, which still look pretty young. Which leads me to skin.
Mother always told us girls to never use soap on our face. She said soap would dry up our skin and make it look older faster. Well, that was one thing we took to heart, and all of us girls have really nice skin. (Sometimes, it pays off to listen to your mother.)
Weight….yes, weight gain happens. The metabolism changes in the body. You have to work harder to keep your weight down…as it just seems to come out of nowhere. Good gravy, this is the biggest I’ve ever been, with the exception of being 40 weeks pregnant carrying a 10 lb baby. Mother would always do what she called hip rolls at night…every night she would do these hip rolls before she went to bed…they kept her arse from getting wide she said. Guess what I’m going to start doing? Yup…should have listened to mother.
Aches and pains…yup…got those. My knees sometimes get stuck. My hips go out more than I do.
Teeth…I still have most of my teeth. My folks had dentures for as long as I can remember, and while they did some pretty cool stuff with those false teeth, I would really prefer to keep mine. I have a terrible dental phobia….I’d rather give birth to triplets with no medication. Which reminds me of the fact that there’s a reason we have children when we are younger. My almost 60 year old body could not take that…nor would I have the patience or the energy to be chasing around tiny tots all day long at this age. I’d be like a zombie….although…I find zombies very cool. Hmmmm.
But on a more serious note….there is one thing that just hangs in the back of my mind. I’m really healthy….aside from glaucoma and a thyroid problem, a numb hand and the occasional aches and pains that “are part of this age” (as my doctor says). But…there’s one thing. I’m turning 60….my mother was 60 once. She died at 67. I wish she were still around to tell me more stuff about when a woman gets older. Maybe I’d not dismiss it as easily.
The year of turning 60. I hope we all deal with it gracefully and well. Because not so long ago…we couldn’t imagine being this age.
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A Christmas Eve Story

A Christmas Eve Story: As I was preparing for my slumber last night, anticipating the arrival of Santa at the homes of all my grandchildren, and fondly recalling all the Christmases of my youth and my children’s youth, a couple of things happened. I experienced some different feelings. First of all, I thought “Oh, it sure is quiet around here on Christmas.” That made me a bit sad. Then, I thought “Oh, but at least I don’t have to stay up late and sneak around with presents. And, I don’t have to get up at the butt crack of dawn.” That made me not quite so sad. So, I finally laid my head on the pillow, and my nose was stuffy, so I reached for my trusty Vicks. In the meantime, my cat, the elusive Ivy May, did something she has NEVER done before. She jumped onto my back and started walking around and then kneading my back with her front paws…you know, the way cats do. As I was attempting to rub my trusty Vicks under my nose…she nailed me right between the shoulder blades, which tickled like nobody’s business…causing me to jerk and whammo….Vicks laden finger poke right in my eyelid. If you have never gotten Vicks on your eyelid, I highly recommend you not try that. If you are attempting to rub Vicks under your nose, make sure you don’t have a cat on your back. Merry Christmas!

Way Back When on Christmas

Way back when, in my childhood, we had 8 kids growing up in our house throughout the years, and we didn’t always get a lot for Christmas, but we always got something. We did the whole milk and cookies thing, and mom would have us put carrots out for Rudolf. We’d watch the Santa Tracker on the news. I could never sleep on Christmas Eve, because I was sooo excited! We’d get up at the butt crack of dawn, and our mom would tell us it’s too early, go back to bed. Then I had my own kids, and there were times when they didn’t get a lot for Christmas, but they always got something. They did the whole milk and cookies thing, and I had them put carrots out for Rudolf. We’d watch the Santa Tracker on the news. I could never sleep on Christmas Eve, because I was so excited! They’d get up at the butt crack of dawn, and I would tell them it’s too early, go back to bed. Now my kids are grown, and Santa goes to their houses for their kids. I eat the cookies instead of leave them for Santa, and no more carrots go out for Rudolf here. I don’t watch the Santa Tracker on the news anymore. I still can’t sleep on Christmas Eve, and my grandkids get my kids up at the butt crack of dawn….and I finally get to sleep in on Christmas.