Sunday, September 05, 2010

Geriatric Transformation

I had a wonderful weekend with my family this Labor Day holiday. We had dinner at my sister Jennifer's house Saturday night. We had a barbecue and fire pit at our house Sunday with the entire family. Monday was a cold, wet, windy, stay-in-our-pajamas, catch-up-on-the-laundry, play-Wii-with-the-kids, make-homemade-potato-soup kind of lazy day. All in all, a wonderful weekend. However, I noticed this weekend that Ruanita and I have officially become old ladies. I am not sure when it happened. I am not certain if it was a slow transformation or if we suddenly woke up on Saturday morning old and feeble. Regardless of when or how it happened, we have most certainly become antiques. The things that excite us are no longer the things of our youth. The moments we find pleasure in are the simple things....the ssssllllooooowww moments of life. Below are the traits I noticed just this weekend that indicate a definite geriatric transformation...some good, some not so good:

Major appliances excite us. We were practically orgasmic about buying a new washing machine on Saturday.

We could open our own pharmacy with the number of prescription medications sitting on top of the microwave in our kitchen.

We don't sweat the small stuff. The car was wrecked last week...oh well....we'll fix it.

I have a battery of go-to recipes for all occasions.

I can borrow my son's socks. Wasn't he just wearing baby booties last week?

My metabolism defies the laws of physics. I can eat two ounces of potato chips and gain two pounds.

I am incapable of reading a book in bed without immediately snoozing. Ruanita can begin snoring in the middle of a conversation once her head hits the pillow.

We are incapable of getting up from the couch silently. Getting up always involves a litany of grunts, moans, or sighs.

I mentally weigh the pros and cons of getting down on the floor before I do it. Pro: Playing with my cutie-pie nephew on his level. Con: The distinct possibility I will be unable to get up from his level without a forklift.

My children refuse to nap...they fight it with every fiber of their beings. Ruanita and I, on the other hand, would give our right hands and left legs for a nap. Left to my own devices, I would nap every single day of my life.

These days, I consider the gastrointestinal consequences of everything I eat before I put it in my mouth. FiberOne Bars? Good. Long John Silvers? Very, very bad.

Upon getting my hair colored, I am no longer concerned about the proportion of low-lights to high-lights...or even the color, as a matter of fact. At this point, I tell the stylist, "Just pick a color. Whatever covers gray the best. Black? Red? Purple? I don't care." Ruanita doesn't even color her hair. She refuses to fight the gray hair battle.

I find pleasure and solace in baking. Ruanita finds pleasure in eating the things I bake. Apparently, she also enjoys sharing them. In true grandmotherly fashion, the "nice boys" from Sears who delivered our new washing machine got sent on their way Sunday with homemade chocolate cupcakes.

Eating soup and watching Hoarders at my sister's house on Saturday night was the highlight of our week. Who needs to go out on a Saturday night when there is cable and soup?

We are incapable of waking up without caffeine. I am a voracious coffee drinker and Ruanita has to start each day with a Dr. Pepper.

I used to pull all-nighters in college all the time. Today, anything less than eight hours of sleep, and I am comatose the next day. Seriously...I am incapable of forming a coherent thought without a full night's sleep.

Most of the red meat in our diet has been replaced by turkey. Turkey burgers, turkey hot dogs, turkey tacos. I can simply look at a regular hamburger and immediately get gassy and bloated.

Nothing makes me happier than playing Scrabble with my mom....and beating her every time.

The most anxiety-provoking part of my day is around 2:15pm when I check Lucas' backpack to see how much homework he brought home with him.

I can remember every single word to Toni Basil's "Mickey" but can't for the life of me remember where I put my cell phone.

I have come to appreciate and enjoy playing video games with my boys. I am normally an extremely competitive person, but for some reason, I don't care at all that they beat me every single time.

Perhaps it is not the "simple" things of life that are exciting us in our old age. Perhaps it is the profound aspects of life that merely seem simple. We may feel ancient and decrepit, but I think we are finally getting to an age and a place in our lives where we can appreciate what truly matters. Time spent with family and friends. Watching our children grow and learn and become little people. Snuggling the evil cat. Relaxing in the home that we have created through hard work and dedication. There is something to be said for maturity. I guess I can't complaint too much...regardless of the gray hair.


Jess(ica) said...

Oh Shannon, you're just getting better with age!! Some of the things on your list are also affecting me, which means that you're not getting old because I can't possibly be getting old yet!

heather said...

I am sad to say that we face the same thing quite frequently, and that's without kids to wear us down. It's just life. We'll get through it. Doesn't mean, you're old, just. . . experienced. Yeah, that's it. - hw

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