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When I started this blog eleven
years ago (eleven years?!?!?), the moniker modern mom mayhem was
extremely fitting. Not only was there chaos and mayhem in my house, I was young (ish)
and very hip. Okay, that’s a lie. I have never been hip, unless you count Huey
Lewis telling us that it was “hip to be square” in which case, I have been hip
ALL MY LIFE.
But as usual, I digress.
Sometime during this last decade, I
went to bed modern and woke up an old lady. Now you might be thinking there’s
some exaggeration going on, which is quite blasphemous as I am always
serious, but I can assure you that I could only wish I was joking. Instead, my
youthful vitality has been slowly stolen by that evil bitch Aging. If you have the
opportunity, avoid her at all costs. Here are some of the sneaky pranks that
Aging plays with me constantly.
My knees sound like Rice Krispies
every time I bend down. Apparently, they are not only for breakfast as that
wicked woman filled my kneecaps with them and then has the audacity to snicker
every time they snap, crackle and pop.
I have graduated to being able to “sleep
wrong” which is always fun when you end up with an uncomfortable crick somewhere,
most likely your neck. For some reason, it takes 3 days for this uncomfortable
muscle knot to untie, so you just have to settle for not moving your head to
the right for three days until it works itself out. Or until you sleep wrong
again but end up with the crick in your back now, thus helping you forget about the
previous one.
I find myself having conversations
with people my age about “the work ethic of kids these days”. If you’ve ever
opened your mouth and grandma tumbled out, that’s another classic Aging prank. She
delights in substituting all your cool conversations with turns of phrase heard
only in nursing homes and your grandparents’ parlor. (Dang it! There’s another one.
Who even says parlor anymore?)
All the music that I used to think
was so old is cool to me now because it has memories. Sure, I might not have
had a hair band music addiction in the 80’s. but now hearing Twisted Sister
lament about how they’re not going to take it or Whitesnake tell us here I go
again, and somehow I’m getting all the feels from my childhood. (Wait a minute…I
wasn't old enough to listen to hairbands in the 80’s!) As if that wasn’t bad
enough, I’m old enough to know what Muzak is and remember jamming out in
elevators. I mean, not me. Nope, definitely not me. <whistles a blithe tune with
hands in my pockets>
(If you don’t know what Muzak is,
google it! Sigh.)
Aging also likes to play a super fun
game where you get a new superpower for your birthday. Only it isn’t a power
and it’s probably not super either. It’s a game she calls “What new pain do I
have this year?” Last year she gave me the gift of calf muscle cramps every time
I stretch. And to think that I didn’t get her anything!
If anytime you get around other people
your age, you start reminiscing about “the good old days”, that is a sure sign
that Aging has been tampering with your memories. Sure, growing up in the 70’s
and 80’s was awesome. But there were also scary things like a plethora of kidnapper
vans, “stop drop, and roll” and the swamp of sadness. The fact that we are now
looking back with rose colored glasses at lawn jarts means that it’s time for
our cholesterol medicine.
I’m stuck in between being old
enough to know better and not old enough for a senior discount. My brain thinks
we’re 30, my body thinks we are 70 and my sense of humor is 22. I can’t
remember where I left my phone but can remember all the lyrics to Warren G’s “Regulate”,
circa 1994. Some days I feel like I need to find an adultier adult and other
days I can’t believe how young these idiots are today. Aging’s most cruel joke
is to leave us in this paradoxical age crisis.
Yeah, I told you. She’s
good.
If the closest I ever get to being
hip is having a hip replacement, then so be it. Fortunately for me, I have plenty
of youthful strength in my children. They’ll need it to push their doddering old mom around in her wheel chair.
“I don’t care if I’m only 45, I
used to push you around in a stroller for the first 3 years of your life.”
Need more mayhem?
Sometimes I remember to post on Facebook (Modern Mom Mayhem)
I’m even on Instagram on occasion (@modernmommayhem)
Want to share your old mom lady stories? Send an email to modernmommayhem@gmail.com.
