Better with age......Yeah only if you're wine

I have come to the conclusion that with each birthday that passes I change even more - and might I add it’s certainly not for the better. Now I realize that as we get older we can’t expect to still be able to wear that size 3 pair of jeans from high school nor can we expect not to have a wrinkle here and there. But jeez! I swear I think all of me is falling apart!

My eyesight is horrible! I have “squint wrinkles” from just trying to see what the guide says on the Direct TV so it’s a hit or miss when I select a channel to watch and if I’m lucky it’s something that I like to watch and not an episode of Teen Mom that just gives me the heebie jeebies thinking about what if….?

My hair has been colored so many times that I can’t even remember what the color was that God intended for me to have – but I don’t think He minds me changing it up or otherwise He wouldn’t have given me L’Oreal. Every time I look in the mirror a new gray hair stands out like a sore thumb. If I didn’t opt for the color in a box kit I’m quite certain within 6 months I would be a perfect stand-in double for Cruella DeVille.

And speaking of hair – what the heck is up with having to tweeze your chin hairs more than you shave your legs. I mean really?? Where do those things come from? It’s like you go to bed with a perfectly smooth face and wake up with enough facial hair to make a representative from Sally Hansen drool with the prospects of their stock in wax strips rising as she looks at you.

I have always practiced the self-diagnostic theory for my excuse not to go to the doctor and if I did it was simply for a second opinion of my own diagnosis. But at my age I have no disposable organs left and the only ones I do have are the black market ones. I have more aches and pains than Carter has liver pills. So now I have no choice about going to the doctor since I don’t have the capability to write my own prescriptions. But to be honest you feel worse after you go because your entire time of waiting for your exam entails you reading every chart on the back of the door and the walls of your room and in your mind checking off each and every system and by the time you leave you have already started making notes for your will on the back of a coupon you find in your purse.  

I have never had the body of a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition model but what I had was better than the “before” Weight Watcher’s poster child figure that I have now. I mean face it when you startle your own self when you look in the mirror after you get out of the shower it’s evident that you don’t spend enough time exercising. Exercising???? When I do have time to do Zumba or Jillian Michael’s last chance (straight out of hell) workout I feel like I’m going to require a hip replacement. But in my mind the workout that I get from putting my socks on usually seems like exercise especially after a few episodes of a "simulation of what blacking out from the lack of oxygen is like" that I get when I bend over.

Oh and I almost forgot (how ironic is that) my lack of memory. And I’m not referring to forgetting where my car is parked at Wal-Mart. I’m talking forgetting that I’m going to Wal-Mart WHILE I’M DRIVING THERE. I don’t forget the little things like appointments or someone’s phone number. It’s more like forgetting to pick up your own kid (and not on purpose either). Or putting mascara on set of eyelashes and forgetting the other and having women looking at you with their heads tilted sideways wondering why you look like a bad example of a spokesperson for Maybelline.

Of course I suppose that with all these things wrong with me it does beat the alternative of not living a rich full life. I guess if I had googled and researched more the “effects of middle age” I wouldn’t be so shocked at all the “perks” of getting older.

A Lifetime Movie, a bubble bath, or a book - what are those?

Lately I have come to the conclusion that the only spare time that I will probably have is what I will just have to reserve for me in at least 5 years. I hear of these women who do things called - watching a Lifetime movie, taking weekend trips with the girls, or even dare I say it reading a good book. While I am curious how that other feminine race manages it I can't help be somewhat envious of them and the luxurious life that they must live. Luxurious??? Yes!!! Trust me - to a single mom simply going to the restroom is a vacation if you can accomplish it without a knock on the door or a distant scream of your moniker (MOM!) from the opposite end of the house - being able to sit down and watch a movie alone (ahhh that word itself makes me drool) would be amazing on some days. And I mean actually during the day when the rest of the civilized world is alive and stirring - not at 1:00 in the morning on a school night rushing to the bathroom during commercial breaks to splash your face with cold water just to stay awake and see the ending.
I have come to the revelation that I have in fact cheated many universities out of millions of dollars on degrees that I managed to educate myself enough to graduate from my own school of learning. I am a lawyer, a nurse (and on some occasions a doctor), a loan officer, a nutritionist, a psychologist AND a psychiatrist. I even hold down part time jobs as a referee, a daycare worker, a sideline coach, plumber and handyman.
I have wiped noses, cleaned up puke, walked the floors all night with a sick child, sat in emergency rooms A LOT, witnessed more bloody injuries than an entire season of Grey's Anatomy and attempted to heal quite a few broken hearts.
Now please don't interpret this as me complaining nor as me being a glory seeker. I am one of many single mom's out there who share the same life as me - only in a different house. And I certainly don't take the credit myself because if it wasn't for many prayers and pleas to the Lord I never would've made it this far. Complaining - no not at all because as crazy as my life is I can't imagine it being any different than what it is. While some of the things that I have listed have not been really that glamorous - they have been highlights in my life in some capacity because I was able to be there.
BUT I have also spent the last 18 years on bleachers proudly watching my children aspire to greatness on the sidelines of football fields and basketball courts cheering, or running the diamond of a t-ball, baseball and softball field, dribbling a ball up and down a court, and watching one run for the end zone and spending MANY weekends traveling to ball fields all over Eastern and Middle Tennessee. I have sat at dozens of school programs, went on an endless list of field trips, hosted  a total of 48 birthday parties (so far), wanted to pull my hair out through countless slumber parties and spent enough time at doctor offices, dentists and orthodontists that I could actually get by with having a degree printed and hang it on my living room wall with pride. And most importantly or all witnessed each of my children accepting Christ and being baptized.
My children know to place their hand on their heart when they hear the National Anthem or say the pledge, they may not know the words to every Beyonce or Kid Rock song - but they knew the words to Jesus Loves Me as soon as they could talk, they may not know how or when to use a Thesaurus but they know how to find a scripture in the Bible. They make mistakes, they sometimes hurt others and do some things that may not always make me proud - but they know the importance of an apology and most of all forgiveness. They may not grow up to be President, a doctor or a famous athlete - but they WILL grow up to be a loving, caring and compassionate person. They may not be person of the world but they will always be my child but more importantly a Child of God.
I may be their harshest critic but I'm also their biggest fans and in the end when all is said & done and they are arguing over which nursing home will be the coolest for me - I will look back and know that I have certainly made my mistakes with them along the way but I will also look back and smile and say "hey - I must have done something right."

Think before you pray

When my dad was really sick a few years before we actually lost him he was at UT for several days - 22 to be exact. I remember he was so pitiful laying there so sick and I felt so helpless. I went out into the hallway to do the only thing that I knew to do that could help...pray. I stood in a corner and I prayed so hard that I wept. I asked...no i begged God to take my Dad's cancer and to give it to me. I told Him I was stronger and that even more so I deserved to have it more than my dad did. I was unaware that my Aunt Chris was standing behind me listening to my pleas to heal my father and let it be me that was suffering. Aunt Chris waited until I was finished and she took my hand and told me "this is not your battle to fight - it's your father's. I don't understand it, he doesn't deserve it but God has chosen this battle for him and the battle He has chosen for you is watch him go through this and to simply be there for him." Several months later I had a mammogram. They found lumps in my left breast and said that I would have to come back for a biopsy. I remember thinking instantly that God had answered my prayers and that He had taken my dad's cancer and given it to me. I wasn't angry. I wasn't bitter. I wasn't even scared. I was at peace with knowing that the Father knew that I could handle this or otherwise I wouldn't have been given the opportunity to trade places with my dad. This had coincided with the time that my dad had went into remission and I was certain that I KNEW God's plan. The biopsy results came back negative. WHAT?? I didn't understand. The more I talked to God the more I began to hear my Aunt Chris' words - "this is not your battle." In time my dad's cancer came back. He got worse. He got better. He got worse. In the end he passed away. It wasn't from the cancer - but ultimately because of the cancer he was too weak to overcome the flu and pneumonia. After Dad died I had this overwhelming amount of strength for my Mom and my family to help them get through the most horrible time of our lives. I know now that was because of the battle that God had chosen for me all along and that was witnessing my dad go through what he did and during that time becoming stronger as not only a daughter but a person. I should have prayed for my dad to have the strength to overcome HIS battle.
This weekend my son had his own battle - a wounded heart. Now trust me I know that this in no way, shape or form compares to the battle that my dad faced but yet it was a battle for him. Now those of you that have children know that there is NOTHING worse than seeing your child suffer - either from sickness or from simply a broken heart. Once again, I went to the Father. I asked of Him to take the pain that my son was feeling and give it to me. I had experienced my fair share of broken hearts and heartache as the result of a relationship and I knew that the pain that he was feeling would go away - but he didn't know that. In what almost seemed like minutes my heart felt like it was literally going to explode with pain. I just knew that God had taken away his heartache and given it to me. But He hadn't. Instead He had given me a reminder of how a broken heart can feel and with that He gave me the compassion that I needed to help my son cope with the pain that he felt.
When I talked to Eli I did what I always try to do when helping my children with a burden or a hurt - I told him to pray. To ask God to make things better. His reply to me? "Mom I can't ask God to give me what would make me happy knowing that it would make someone I care about unhappy." It was like my child teaching me instead of me being the teacher. He showed me what I should have known all along. That in our prayers we have to think about what we are asking for and realize that sometimes what it is that we need is not just an answer but rather we just need understanding and then we can find our own answers.

What you leave behind...

I have a dear friend of mine that passed away this week. I by far wasn't the only friend that he left behind. There were A LOT of us. I have thought a lot about the stories of Ted that I could tell and thought about how many years that I have known him and how many smiles he has given me over those years.
That made me think a lot about when I leave this world and I have wondered about the legacy that I will leave behind. I don't think that we realize just how important it is that we live our lives in a way that will testify to what kind of person that we were when we walked on this earth. It is entirely up to us as to what impression of ourselves we leave on others.
Whether it is a smile that you gave a stranger, a laugh that you gave a friend or support that you gave a loved one. I want to know that when I leave that people will look back on my life and say that they were blessed to have known me. I want to know that when my children look back on their lives with me that they see that I was independent but yet knew when to ask for help. That I was strong but yet not afraid to show when I was weak. I want them to remember my laughter but also to remember my tears - as the sadness made me as much as a person as the joys that I had in my life have. But most of all I want my children to be inspired to be not only a good parent but also the best person that they can be. I want them to know that no matter what mistakes you make in life - what is important is what you have done to correct those mistakes or at least make up for them.
It doesn't matter how small the gesture that we make - it will almost always leave an impression on someone in their life. Whether it's holding open a door for someone that needs help. Whether it's lending a shoulder to a friend who needs someone to lean on or reaching out your hand to help pull someone up that has fallen on hard times. But it can also mean giving someone that part of you that makes them smile and gives them a wonderful memory to always keep with them when they think of you. Be the kind of person that has spent your life making memories and not excuses.
Thank you Ted for all the wonderful memories that you gave me. Each time that your name is mentioned I will have a smile on my face as I remember you.

Now how do I do this thing????

Well with the encouragement of some loved ones and a very limited amount of fans I'm going to try my hand at this thing called "blogging" I admit I am illiterate when it comes to the world of technology - in fact I think it ran off and left me behind when we switched from flip phones to smart phones....well everyone else switched I'm still too afraid.
Sometimes you just get things on your mind and you want to talk about them. But there's that constant worry that you will bore someone or that your displaying your thoughts on Facebook will become so annoying that people's first reaction to seeing yet another profound or ridiculous post of mine is to frantically search for the delete friend button!
When you are a single mom more often than not do you have time to sit down and keep a journal of your thoughts or for that matter even have a 5 minute phone conversation with a girlfriend without being interrupted 23 times and then eventually giving in and hanging up.
My thoughts are by no means anything that are going to win me a literary prize or recognition on the Ellen Show (my luck it I did have 5 minutes of fame it would be on Oprah and I can't stand that woman). I just like to revel in my deep philosophical ramblings or rant about something that infuriates me so....I write.
I'm not sure how this is going to pan out - I hope I can figure this thing out and be able to do it. If not I hope you enjoyed my one and only blog :)