Ma'am

At CVS this morning an employee asked, "Need any help Ma'am?"

At Town Hall, a gentleman held the door for me, "Ma'am." he said as he nodded me by.

At the gas station where I waited for my car to be inspected, "Ma'am, you're all set." the boy not much younger than me proclaimed.

Do I look like a Ma'am to you?

Exhibit A:

Okay, so maybe the glasses are a little "Granny" and I do have some freckles. No wrinkles though and I think the hair is pretty sexy.

Exhibit B:

The corduroy blazer is a little "Ma'am ish", I guess, but the rest looks pretty young and fresh to me.

Exhibit C:

So you can assess my ma'am ish ness from another angle...

I actually looked up Ma'am, short for madam, which is by definition:
"a women of refinement." In my case, this is debatable.

"the mistress of a household" True.

"a woman in charge of a brothel"
My favorite definition. Though not true, it is possible that with the plunging neckline, shape defining jacket, wild hair, and cunning smile, one of the three thought it to be true.

Maybe, Ma'am is not such a bad way to be addressed after all. It doesn't necessarily mean I look old and at least it shows some respect.

Dr., Dr., Give Me The News

I consider myself a pretty healthy person. I am vegan. I jog/walk 5 or more miles a day. I (mostly) make things from scratch instead of buying processed foods. I go to therapy for mental health.

Pretty healthy, right?

A couple weeks ago I went to the eye doctor.
"Your eyes have stayed the same." she proclaimed.
"Really? This is the first time ever that my eyes haven't changed." I was giddy!
"Well, you are ol... I mean, at a certain point, around your age, it's normal."
Horrified, I was. Old? She stopped just short of saying I'm old? Wow.

A few days later, I was at my new OBGYN.
After the normal pleasantries, she said, "So, you are 28."
Then I heard a stranger with my voice say, "Yes." Like, it was normal. Automatic.
My mind questioned this stranger, "Really? You are 28? How, when did this happen?"
We talked about the possibility of difficulties and dangers of getting pregnant. That, with my health history and age, I should do it sooner rather than later, if it is something my husband and I want. It was then that my mind caught up with the stranger, and slowly accepted that "Wow, I am an adult and my age is ever advancing and with age comes physical changes even if my mind and heart are still 5 years young. I have some serious choices to make."

Sitting in bed with the diagnosis of Bronchitis that has come after two weeks of coughing non-stop, I've been sewing itty bitty things for itty bitty babies that my friends will be bringing into this world soon and feeling nothing but joy. Then I heard it, a faint whisper of hope, a baby's cry, "I'm coming. Just ask for me, pray for me and you could be my mom."

I may be getting older, but my life isn't over. In fact, I could still be immortalized by a child if I wish, if I chose, if I pray... and I may.

One for the Ages

Mr. B&B and I hung out with a variety of different people on different occasions this weekend. In every group, the topic of age and aging came up. I never really think about my age. I just keep blazing my own trail.

Saturday night we joined Mr. B&B's extended family at a dinner celebrating his sister's 21st birthday. Of course, we all spoke vaguely about our 21st birthday parties and joked about how long ago they were. Then people got around to talking about when Melissa was born and how long they have all been married and "Where did the time go?" I wanted to scream, "Instead of moaning about the past, think about how you want to spend the rest of your time on this planet!" Eternal optimist, glass half full girl, I am.

Sunday afternoon and evening, we went to a party in Mr. B&B's hometown. It was actually thrown by two people I went to middle and high school with. Oddly enough, the best man at our wedding worked with the guy I know from school. Mr. B&B knew a lot more people at the party a lot better than I did. Inevitably, I was hanging out with our best man for most of the party. At the end of the night he and I were filled with randomness and got to talking about ex's. I told him I admire how friendly he is with one of his ex's after all of the messiness at the end of their relationship. He replied, "We were just 19 year old kids. It was ten years ago. We've gotten over it." That hit me head on. If he was 19 ten years ago, I was 18 ten years ago. I suddenly felt what the people at Melissa's birthday party must have felt. Yeah, those people I wanted to yell at. So, I yelled at myself.

When I turned 25, my younger and only brother called and said, "You're almost 30." What is this anxiety we attach to numbers? Why do we give them so much power over our lives? Maybe I feel a bit more freedom from them because I have done things unconventionally, on my own time table. Just try and make the most of every day, I say. Some days we have more to give than others, but give it all you got, whatever it is you've got to give.

Sunday evening, I talked to a long time friend of the family, in part to wish him and his wife Sherrie(my matron of honor), a happy 23rd wedding anniversary. I was the flower girl in their wedding and I wore a magnificent black and white dress with a gigantic twirly hoop skirt which I l-o-v-e loved. Joe said, "I've known you all your life, kid. I'm gettin' old." I have no words to say how grateful I am to still have people in my life who have known me since conception and are not blood relations. It's outstanding.

Monday, Keith and Alison brought Alexander to our house and we all munched on food and played on the playground. Keith and Alison are expecting another baby (or babies) in January. I remember when they found out they were pregnant with Alexander. I hope that Brad and I get to be Alexander and his siblings "Joe and Sherrie".

We're born. We grow. The cycle continues. Age after Age after Age.

To life.