There are areas of all of our lives where lines which, while once very distinct, have blurred, faded or perhaps even shifted a bit. Since I can't think of a part of my life in which this has not happened, I'll share a few just to see if the resonate with anyone else.
There are the obvious lines such as Health. While I have worn glasses since I was about eight years old, I never had a problem seeing to read. At 25 or even 35, the words in books and newspapers were clear and crisp and I enjoyed not having to wear my glasses for such a wonderful and important part of my life. Let's click Fast Forward 10 years and see where we land....
Now I have two choices when it comes to reading: One, remove my glasses and hold the book, or iPad in some cases, right up to my face so that I can see the words clearly. Two, I can leave my glasses on but hold my iPad at an arm's length and hope I get most of what I'm reading right.
The worst of it, to me, is reading a label for ingredients. My husband has an allergy to a certain type of preservative which is used commonly in a variety of foods. Since, until very recently, I did all of the grocery shopping and cooking, it was, and is, important that I be able to check an ingredient label prior to purchasing or cooking certain items. For the better part of 20 years, Grocery shopping was one of the household duties I took great pride in and I had it down to a science. One of the keys to that science is NOT bringing anyone with me when I shop, but that's another story. Anyway, I could make it from my door, to the Grocery store, complete the shopping and pull back in the driveway in an hour and a half. Now, given the extra steps needed to actually read a label, it takes much more time. Horrifyingly enough, I have turned in to one of those people who stops every few feet, product in hand, glasses slid to the end of my nose, completely oblivious to the world around me while I read labels. It doesn't sound that bad but when you realize that world just happens to include a backup of about seven shopping carts in whatever aisle you've taken up residence, it starts to make you wonder if you've crossed some sort of line in life.
Being a "Cool" Mom. Those lines are getting blurrier by the second. I have a daughter in college and one in Junior High who I, of course, stalk on Facebook. Sometimes I even write a message or respond to one of the posts between each girl and her friends. I even do that to my Stepdaughters, poor things, and they're both in High School.
At the time I'm doing it, I think it's a small way for me to remain close with my daughter(s) as she makes her way to adulthood. Once I'm done and hit "Enter", it takes a few seconds but I almost feel embarrassed. How can I explain - remember what it was like to "drunk dial" someone? Don't say you haven't, we all have.....haven't we? Anyway, while it seems like a perfectly good idea at the time (in fact at times it's the best idea you ever had), when you wake up the next morning, reality kicks in.....right between the eyes where that headache is pounding what feels like drums of war. Oh, you may have a few seconds of blissful ignorance as you attempt to run your tongue over your teeth where it simply adheres because all saliva has been rerouted to the "Vomit Waiting Area". Once those few seconds pass, you remember what you've done and determine it was not a nightmare, there is regret. That's kind of like the regret I feel after one of those Facebook posts. The kids are very nice and are happy to have the odd comment exchange here and there but that's where the line gets blurry. It's starting to become difficult to see the line between 'My Mom is so great' and 'How do you restrict someone from your Facebook account?'
There are also less obvious lines that begin to blur in your forties such as clothing. At 45, which department do I shop in for clothes that don't make me A) look like my Grandmother or B) look like a mid-life crisis and car crash hybrid? When I was 35, I could still shop in the "Misses" departments and be comfortable in what I was wearing. I didn't feel like I had to head over to "Womens" to pick something up that would make me look like an Alfred Dunner model. There were limitations, of course but I consoled myself that, even at age 20, I wouldn't have paid for or worn a shirt that had literally been cut to shreds. Seriously, what is the point of those shirts? If you buy one, you just have to buy another to wear under the one that is missing half of it's original fabric. What does it all mean?
Also, I do a lot of shopping online where clothing sizes vary from company to company. I try to use the size charts but about five years ago I stopped looking at the waist as a point of measure. If I can get hips and chest right, I'm in pretty good shape. Gone are the days when my waist was significantly smaller than my hips. The days where my top half was a size 10 and my bottom half a size 4 or 6. Those were the good old days - back when I was one of those obnoxious people who took two bathing suits to try on in stores. I would bring two bikinis in to the dressing room where I would methodically mix and match the size 10 top to the size 4 bottom. I used to feel bad about it for a minute or two but now I look back on those days with a strange envy. It's one of those 'I wish I knew then what I know now' moments. I mean, those numbers look pretty impressive to me now but maybe I'm just not seeing them clearly......does that line look blurry to you?
No comments:
Post a Comment