Getting older and wrinklier - I mean wiser ...

Today I am 36.

Wow ... that was harder to type than I realized (and not just because I have sub par typing skills).

I never really cared much about getting older. Age is just a number, you're only as old as you feel, like a fine wine ... all those cliches. I had no problem turning 30, or 31 or well, you get the idea. I really didn't have a problem turning 35 either. Truth be told I really don't have any problem turning 36. It's just now I am starting to feel like I am 36, or at least not 26 anymore. And as my friend Megan so delightfully told me - we're closer to 40 then 30. Yikes!

I'm not so naive that I don't know that when you get older things start to change. But I never really noticed they were changing until this past year. Something about turning 35 made my body go "Hold on, wait a minute, we're how old now? 35? Mid 30s? OK, Sarah get ready!"

Stupid body was so subtle about it I didn't even notice it at first. For instance my inability to eat sugary foods or drink soda (I know I'm from Michigan, but I call it soda, not pop - get over it!). Now I know these things are not good for me so this really shouldn't be a big deal. But it's not even like I got to make the choice to cut these things out of my diet to be healthy. My body went "OK, go ahead and drink that Diet Coke, but you are going to feel like poo in about 30 minutes so you'd better enjoy it!" And me, being the quick one that I am, didn't put two and two together for a few months. Now if I want Diet Coke I have to cut it with some rum. Sigh, the sacrifices we make as we age ...

Wrinkles or "laugh lines" as we ladies call them are starting to crop up. Oh joy. Now I need to spend copious amounts of money on creams and serums to "reduce to look of aging." Let's call it what it really is shall we? Caulk for your face.

Thirty-something-year-old skin is definitely not what it used be. Now when I walk into the corner of our dining room table or the foot board of my bed I get a big ole bruise. Of course I don't notice it for three or four days and when I do I can never quite remember where it came from.

Still, all in all, my 30s have been the best decade of my life so far. There is something comforting about your 30s. You are not in a hurry to grow up like you were in your teens. You are not trying to prove your not a kid like in your 20s. It's a good age to me. Bruises, wrinkles and all.

And from what my husbands tell me, your 40s aren't so bad either!

                                          Me in Kindergarten and me today at age, gulp 36

Happy dance!

Man I am in a good mood!




And it's not just because my Tim Horton's Cafe Mocha is kicking in. (Man, I love me some Tim Horton's!)

Some of it has to do with the weather. I have self diagnosed Seasonal Affective Disorder so this sunshine, blue sky, temps in the 50s and climbing does wonders for my mood. How can a sunshiny day not just make you smile?

Some of it has to do with feeling extremely accomplished (and it's not even noon). *Brag alert* (You may want to skip these next couple sentences or  prepare yourself for a nice big eye roll.) I have gotten so much done today so far! Morning run, check, All three kids to school on time, check (ok the bus helped with that one), shopping for my mini me's birthday, check, mother's day crafts pieces picked up, check. Mini me picked up from school ON TIME, check. Home and typing a blog post before noon, check. (even though I am sure by the time you read this it will be after 12.)

Ok, brag over. Resume normal reading.

Probably the biggest factor in my awesome mood is the incredible songs playing on the radio on my drive home. (Yes, I listen to the radio - the regular radio. No satellite, no Pandora, the staticy commercial-filled radio.) It started with REO Speedwagon's "Keep on Rolling" - I mean what else do you need to get the minivan a rockin'? A little air keyboard, air guitar, and amazing air drums and I don't give a bleep who may be looking strangely at me as I drive by. I'm in my own little REO world.



Hard to top REO, but the next song came close. NKOTB baby!! (New Kids on the Block for all of you who were over the age of 10 in 1989.)No lie, it actually came om the radio. Step by Step! Love it!

Unfortunately the station got too staticy for me to hear Diana Ross and the Supreme's afterwards, but one switch of the station and it was "Uptown Funk." Switching gears to the classic country station, I then got to serenade with Dolly Parton's "Why'd you come in here lookin' like that" and Jo Dee Messina's "Lesson in Leavin'."

I mean was the radio on fire or what?

As I pulled in to pick up my little one I was jamming to "Heaven is a Place on Earth," by Belinda Carlisle.

Don't judge. My music tastes may all over the place, but I don't care. Give me a good beat and some decent lyrics and I won't care about the genre. Expect death metal - I just don't get that.

So bring on the rest of the day! So far, so great! I mean I will probably crash at 2 p.m., but I'm going to ride this high as long as I can.

Or until the Tim Horton's wears off .... Roll with the changes, baby ....

Can't we all just get along?

BFFs or mortal enemies. Those seem to be the only two choices when it comes to how my kids get along.

Love or hate.  Not much in between.

It's so weird to me.

I do know what it it like to have siblings. That's not the weird part. I have three. So I know what it's like to share, wait your turn, wear hand-me-downs ... All that stuff.

But one sibling stereotype we did not fall victim to is fighting. We didn't yell at each other, fight in the car, draw lines down shared bedrooms, borrow clothes without asking, hit, punch or kick each other. We generally got along. All. The. Time.

Weird right? I'm not quite sure why. I'm sure if we all underwent some heavy psycho analysis we could figure it out, but who cares? We all got along and that's a good thing.

A good thing for me except that it did not prepare me AT ALL for the fighting, bickering, physical violence my kids were going to have toward each other.

I can't believe it some times. All the yelling! All the fighting! They hit, kick, punch, even BITE each other! Why? Because she is not doing what you want? Because he is playing with a toy you have to have? Come on!

And the tattling! Oh my the tattling! I am not going to intervene every time your sister tells you that you are mean. Or flicks you on the arm! And of course every little tap or bump is the worse injury they have every received and they come limping up the stairs bawling their eyes out from the sheer pain of it all.

Can't we all just get along?

I used to try to fix it all. Figure out who said what and who did what to whom. Funny thing though, along with it taking an exorbitant amount of time and energy, my kids' memory suddenly became very foggy. Now it wasn't quite clear who started it or who hit first. Interesting ...

Now, if a tattling kid comes crying to me with their crocodile tears I simply say "you want me to solve it?" Usually they don't. Cause when mom solves it, everyone gets in trouble and there is nothing tattling children like less than getting in trouble when they think they did nothing wrong.

Call it lazy, call it giving up, it's working for now so I'm going to stick with it. I do have to credit my husband with that little gem though. Thanks hun! Without your little epiphany I'd probably be huddled in the a corner somewhere rocking back and forth mumbling "no hitting, no kicking, stop sitting on your sister..."

But its not just the fighting and tattling. No, it's the way they roll on each other. Ask the three of them who spilled or made a mess or broke something and two of them will quickly turn on the other. "He did it!" "She did it!"

Geesh, your siblings, you are supposed to have each other backs. My siblings and I ALWAYS covered for each other. Mine rat each other out the first chance they get.

I tell them they aren't supposed to rat on each other. They are supposed to cover for each other. Then I quickly add "I'm not supposed to be telling you this, you know."

Some day they'll figure it out. Then I'll will wish I'd never told them how to keep mom and dad in the dark.

Well, at least they'll be getting along ...

                                                 (A rare photo of my kids getting along ...)

Busy with three kids? Who knew?

Being a parent is hard. And exhausting. And hard. Let’s just say it’s exhaustingly hard.

I thought when my kids were through the waking-up-six-times-in-the-night-for-food-or-a-diaper-change-or-the-room-is-one-degree-too-warm stage, I wouldn't be so tired. But I am. So. Tired.

Maybe it is because instead of having a crying baby who can’t quite articulate his or her needs and I have three very loud children who very clearly can.

“I want!” “I need!” “No fair!” “I’m hungry!” “Why?” “You’re mean!” (That’s a new one.) And lots of stomping of feet, yelling and door slamming.

And I’m trying so hard not to yell. I really am. Both my husband and I are trying SO hard. But it’s difficult. It’s tiring. It’s taking so many deep breaths I thinking I’m going to pass out sometimes.

But here’s the other thing – its working. Yes it’s hard – parenting is supposed to be hard. Yes, it’s frustrating – it’s supposed to be. They are tiny people who don’t quite know what they want or how they should act so they try out all kinds of personalities or “phases” on you before they morph into the adult you truly hope they can be.

We are going through a few phases in our house at the moment. With three kids ages 8, 5 and 4 it’s easy to hit a few. We have the fibbing phase (I don’t want to say lying because I can’t bring myself to call my cute little five-year-old a liar). We also have the can’t-make-up-my-mind-so-I’m-going-to-throw-a-fit phase, and we have the eye-rolling exasperated sighing of the almost pre-teen stage.

Needless to say there are a lot of feelings and a lot of tears in our little house. Oh, and the kids are an emotional roller coaster, too.

Most days it is pretty difficult to keep a level head through the whining, complaining, fibbing and eye-rolling. Some days I fail. OK, most days I fail, because moms have tough days too, gosh darn it! But some days, when the stars align just right and my third cup of coffee has given me an energy boost at just the right moment, I say the right thing and I don’t get an eye-roll! Or some words of wisdom actually come from MY mouth and miraculously seem to connect with the tiny person! I am able to find humor in the situation instead of frustration! The toys get cleaned up without me having to ask them!

Ok, that last one never happens, but maybe someday right? And that is what makes the frustration, the tiredness, the not yelling when you just want to jump out of your skin worth it. Those moments when you feel like you are not totally messing them up for the rest of their lives but actually doing something right. They may be fleeting but they are so worth it.

Yes, parenting is hard, but nothing that was worth doing and worth doing right ever came easy. Somebody famous probably said that, but I’m too tired right now to try and figure it out. And a cute four-year-old needs some juice …