Well, my boy’s birthday weekend went by like a flash. But then so has the last 25 years, so why am I not surprised that a few days seemed like minutes. Time is really getting away with me and I feel all kinds of out of control. Birthdays blending together, work weeks running one on top of the other, holidays sneaking up on me without so much as a “Boo”. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels and I’m not getting any traction.

How did he get from this

to this

so damn fast?

Seriously. I think I’m having a mental crisis. It’s not that I’m sad that he’s grown up. I’m quite proud of the young man he’s become. He’s got a heart of gold, a fabulous work ethic and loves his family fiercely. So it’s not that I miss the adorable, tenacious little boy that he was. No – it’s just that I blinked and 25 years passed me by. I don’t know where it went. I mean, I was present. I think. Maybe I was asleep the whole time. In a drug-induced coma? No? Gosh, I guess I should have listened to ALL the folks that have told me that time flies. I didn’t believe them when I was young.

Now that I’m older. . . boy do I ever believe them! Age brings lots of things to the table. I thought the only battle I would have would be with gravity. It’s turning out that that isn’t the big deal at all. No – it’s the fact that time increases to warp speed while menopause morphs you into an alien creature. You wake up one day and see your grandmother in the mirror. Aaaahhh! My grandmother was not a pretty woman. She was sweet as pie, but pretty? Not so much.

Luckily, I don’t have vanity issues to stress me out with that part. I accepted my looks (or lack thereof) and my flaws a long time ago. Otherwise, I’d be in line at the plastic surgeon’s office with the rest of the plastic faced people trying to hang onto their youth. One reason is this:

My luck – I’d have freakish results like this. I’ll take my wrinkles, but hold the fleeting time, thank you.

I need to go now. I have to get shopping for Christmas because it’ll be here in a week if blink.