What a Difference a Day Makes

I woke up this morning, and just like magic I was happy.  I'm rarely happy.  I'm even looking forward to my upcoming Disney trip, not just because I love Disneyworld, but because I want to spend time with the kids.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I know, I'm shocked, too.

I love my granddaughters with every fiber of my being.  But as anyone who might read my blog knows (all three of you), I'm old, tired and can't deal with kids very well these days.  I focus too much on what I thought my life would be like at this age (yes, that's the only time I seem capable of focusing on anything--adult ADD perhaps?)  And then there's MENOPAUSE.  My brain has been scrambled like an egg, then fried.  (I'm thinking I should do a new Public Service Announcement along the lines of the old "This is your brain, this is your brain on drugs..." Only mine will show your brain on MENOPAUSE--scary, huh?)

Yesterday was my birthday.  For the past several days I've been having a meltdown.  I honestly didn't think it had anything to do with tacking another year onto the 50+.  But maybe I was wrong, and I was dreading a bigger number after all. And now that another birthday has come and gone, I seem to be in a much better frame of mind.  I woke up today and life is good.  Who knows, maybe life is good because I woke up today. 

I knew there would be a point that I would accept that I was old and there was nothing I could do to turn back the clock.  I mean, I see old people walking around every day, some even smiling.  They don't all seem like they're one rice krispy short of a treat.  So I figured they must have learned to accept the fact that they got old.  After all, everyone either gets old or they don't.  No one stays young forever.  Yes, I'm just happy to be alive.