Pull Over NOW!

It's happened.

I have become an embarrassment to my child. Yes, it was just a matter of time. True, it is simply the order of things. Still, I was unprepared.

Most days, I drop my son off at his "new" school -- he started Junior High this fall. Most days, he gently says "you can just park here, Mom". On Wednesday, I was driving up to the school and was absent-mindedly pulling ahead of the spot I normally stop. He grew rigid in the seat beside me and shouted "Pull over NOW!"

So I did. And he got out. Quickly. In his usual Junior High fashion. No goodbye. No toothy grin. Just his back making its way into a sea of 700-800 other kids.

I finally got it. He was directing me to pull over in an area where nobody important could actually see me.

On Thursday, I pulled over well before we got within view of the building. And quickly sped away like a middle-aged getaway car.

What the....?

Long time, no write.

To wit: I was sitting on an uncomfortable metal folding chair at my stepson's high school commencement and the grandmother next to me (she's 70 if she's a day) says: "My that's a pretty dress you're wearing. Where did you get it?" I wilt. Earlier that morning, I'd asserted that my "look" was positively frumpy. Looking back, I realize nobody argued with me. Next thing I know, Granny wants to know where I shop. We took the obligatory post-event family photos. Then came home. I removed the dress  and threw it in the garbage. Of course, I had to explain to the 18-year old stepson and 24-year-old stepdaughter why I needed to part with the dress in such a hurry. 

Amused, they were.

Laughing, my husband was. (Yeah, I've gained one of those since I last posted.)

Yoda, I am not.

Grannies like my wardrobe and I have a married stepdaughter who could make ME a grandmother (well, of sorts) at any time.

My mom retired in April. Dad retired in March. Both have applied for and are receiving Social Security Benefits.

Whoa.

My son will start Junior High in the fall. Inexplicably, he has begun to like girls. Not that he'd admit it, but I know he does. He'd rather pound me or wrestle me than hug me. He will be taller than I am by this time next year. Last week, he asked if I was having a puberty-induced mood swing. (A tear rolled down my cheek as I laughed at his attempt to cheer me up.)

I've been with the same Company for 18 years. (WHAT?!?)

Clearly, I know I'm not a kid anymore.

But.

TIME OUT!

Slow down. I was just getting used to thong panties and low-rise jeans. I am 41. I am fine with being mature. Established. Comfortable. (yes, I confess this last.) My husband's is terrific. My kids are wonderful. My job is probably better than I deserve. I don't want to be a kid. But I am NOT ready to be Matronly. Grandmotherly. Sensible.

So, I ask you: If I farted in the woods and nobody was there to smell it, would it still stink?

Career Advancement?

I have become...

...a bureaucrat

...an administrator

...a full-fledged 'company man'.

I know...

...the policies.

...the politics.

...the people.

...their expectations.

...and the consequences of not being one of 'them'.

I am afraid...

...of leaving.

...of staying.

...of living.

....of dying.

...of who I'll see in the mirror ten years hence.

I wonder...

...how many zeroes is enough?

...is this who I am?

...or where I belong?

I wonder...

Songs NOT to Play in a Gym

"Fat-Bottomed Girls". I heard it today while I was working out. For the second time in as many months. Both times, I declared: "This is just wrong...to play this song while I'm working so hard to be, um, not fat-bottomed."

Only the Good Die Young...unless you fast-forward the part about heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack.

Just Eat It (by Weird Al)

Anything by Kenny G or Yanni

Anything on the Richard Simmons "Sweatin' to the Oldies" video.

"Highway to Hell" by ACDC. I've also heard that one a few times lately. During actual workouts. Not only do I loathe this song in general, it is NOT what I want to hear when I'm on a treadmill or elliptical machine.

You may have others...feel free to share.

There is a Drug...

...for almost anything.

This week, I was in a meeting with our Pharmacy Benefit Manager and they were talking about a new hormone-laden drug that's "in the pipeline". It's use: treatment of precocious puberty.

As opposed to the kind of puberty that is not, in fact, "precocious".

Hmmm....

Heaven forbid the kids actually go through the maelstrom that is adolescence. Goodness knows...we parents shouldn't be expected to lead and assist them through the process. It's whiny. It's argumentative. Rather stinky. Unpleasant even. And awfully tumultuous. But it's real. And somehow important.

Pardon me, but I hear common sense calling.