When I started this blog about 13 years ago, I had a preschooler. A three-year old boy who wielded a light saber, believed in Santa, and resisted naps like it was his job. Our days were filled with park visits, playdates, reading books and singing silly songs.
Fast forward, and here I am with an almost 17 year-old young MAN (and a yellow lab that behaves like a preschooler). Hubby and I are on the cusp of an empty nest. The Legos have long since been put away and have been replaced with mailers from colleges near and far. Gone are the days of getting a babysitter so that hubby and I could go out to dinner and get a little break. Now, we beg Monkey Man to go out to dinner WITH us.
While Monkey Man continues growing inches over me, I watch as my midsection tries to creep inches over my waistband. Monkey Man is barreling on towards adulthood and all of the exciting adventures that await him, and I’m here in the throes of midlife, perimenopause, who the hell is that reflection in the mirror “adventures” - if that’s what we want to call sweating through our t-shirts in the middle of the night. I no longer need to get up every few hours to feed a child. No, no - instead, I get up every few hours to pee.
This blog’s title is still aptly named, though. You are kidding me continues to be a phrase I use daily, only now I might add in a few expletives since Monkey Man is older and we can laugh at mom’s potty mouth.
Caught in the middle - We’re raising children and caring for parents; seasoned in our careers but not quite ready for retirement (mentally, oh yessss - financially, not quite yet), done with the clubs and bars but not quite ready for weekly bingo and dinner at 4pm.
Come along with me on this wild ride of midlife. Because misery - and menopause - love company.
