Busy Momma

Well bare with me, I’ve found a new idea to blog about.  It won’t be weekly, it won’t be month, but good god it will be sporadic.  These will be my moments when I have a bond with my growing old.  Not with the fact that I’m growing old.  DUH, happens, but I won’t ever get there.  But these will be the moments that I realize my old relatives don’t really think they are old either.  Just follow along and you will understand.  lol  I have a couple of them tonight to post.

1.  Big one happened tonight in the shower tonight.  There are bottles everywhere.  Now this is not a problem, this does not make me old.  But the fact that I know understand why old people have so many damn bottles and lotions in the shower does.  WAHHHH, WTF?  His soap, my soap, my adult acne soap, my bod scrub soap, his shampoo, my shampoo and conditioner for COLORED hair, OUR dandruff shampoo.  Ugh, can you guess it was the dandruff shampoo that put it over the edge?  QUITE LAUGHING RETTA!  You may be younger, but it will catch up with you.  lmao

2.  This one actually happened yesterday.  We ended up driving around for a few hours looking at houses on the market.  1/2 through, daughter makes a comment about what she wants.  It dawned on me and I even said it out loud that honestly she didn’t get much say in the house.  No, it wasn’t mean like cause we want the same things she does in a house.  It’s just a big play house that adults own.  Geesh.  But when I said it I also said she’d only be living in it for the next 6 years.  WTF!!!  OMG, how did that happen?  Huge old moment.  Honestly, it’s only 6 more years til she graduates.  Then hubby of course did not get the PMS vibe going on and said that the house we are in right now would be the longest she’d live in a house until she buys her own.  {gasp, cough, choke}  Oh so didn’t need to hear that.  Quit knocking me back to reality.  I like my world of denial.

So these are my truths.  I hope they won’t happen very often, but they are happening more than I want them to now.  Can you even imagine?  Share your’s and wallow in my self-pity.