It is a metaphorical midlife crisis mobile, as we only have one car, and that is a whole different kettle of angst.
As you might know, might not, I'm turning forty in nineteen days. The big four zero. As in half way to eighty and twenty was fifteen minutes ago. I've laughed at others little freakouts when they turned thirty or thirty five, but this one is really getting to me. I know I have a lot of things to be thankful for, and I can acknowledge that. A lot of good things have happened to us this year. I'm sending out some party invitations today, so put your gin face on. Or your vodka face if you go that way. Or your iced tea face.
Back in the oya baka world, baby turned nine months old yesterday. I'll post some pictures later.
Back to me. After sitting in a friend's living room yesterday drinking tea and trying not to cry taking about all this stuff, I've just got to do something with all the crap that gets on my nerves. So, this morning I've put away the kids clothes, danced with the baby, joined Weight Watchers, and planted those bulbs that have been sitting on the kitchen counter forever. I'm making lists of the way I want things to be and plowing through them as fast as a woman with a baby and a sassy four year old can. After story hour I'm going to Lowes. Nothing is too big or scary except being fat, and I've been pussyfooting around that one for twenty years. The rest is just a list of things that need to be painted, repaired, organized, and re-ferberized.