Who is that scary old lady in the mirror?

You'd think that with His Nibs and me both working full time, the teenagers who live in our house would step up and handle a few household obligations.

Yeah, you'd think that, wouldn't you?

It's a never-ending problem. By the time I get home from work, I'm too tired to sleep, let alone cook dinner, clean up afterward, do laundry, pick up around the house . . . you get the idea. I put in ten hours of overtime this weekend, and tonight I have a board meeting to attend. Seems that there's always something going on in my little world.

Is it asking too much that the kids help out? It didn't seem to be when my folks expected it of my sisters and me. Or maybe we thought it was then. I don't know; I seem to remember just doing stuff to help out. Of course, I'm a lot older now and my memory is a little fuzzy sometimes. But how do you forget being the Perfect Child? Surely I'm not making that up!

There was a time when I could work 40 hours at my day job, take a class a couple of nights a week, plus stay on top of all those uber-important tasks at home, and not even break a sweat. That was before (a) my thirties and (b) my kids. Suddenly I don't have the energy to pour milk over a bowl of cereal; I'm too weak to lift a gallon jug. When did that happen?

And that's not all. Lately--like for the past ten years--I've been noticing other changes. Like little wrinkles around my eyes. Dark spots on my hands. More white in my hair than brown. My voice is weakening and I can't sing like I used to (although I bet if you asked Drama Princess and Daredevil, they'd tell you my yelling hasn't slacked off any). My grip isn't as strong as it once was, and I can't lift as much as I used to. Long walks get shorter and shorter. Or do short walks get longer and longer? Hard to tell. My temper is getting shorter and shorter, too. I'm afraid I'm going to turn into that mean old lady down the street, the one whose house kids are afraid to approach on Halloween night. One day I'll catch myself mumbling under my breath, carrying on a conversation with the person in my head, as I trip over one of my 37 cats. That scary old lady.

I keep thinking that I don't really feel any different from the way I did when I was in high school, or when I was in college, or when I first got married almost 23 years ago, but I know I'm kidding myself. My tummy bothers me now, meaning I can't eat like I used to and I have to take a little pill every day. Sheesh. My feet ache at the end of the day (His Nibs is a master of the foot massage, which is just one more reason to keep him around). I crave naps even while fighting fatigue like a little kid. I wear reading glasses most of the time now. I'm sure a hearing aid is in my future, too. Hopefully, I won't be replacing my teeth any time soon.

I guess I can still hold my own in the household chore department, but really, I think it's time Daredevil and Drama Princess noticed when the trash needs to be taken out, preferably before the dog scatters it all over the kitchen. Back problems are keeping me off all the fun rides at Worlds of Fun; maybe it's time to use that to my advantage, and announce my retirement from mopping floors and running the vacuum as well.

And when I gaze fondly back over the years to my youth, boring my kids as I drone on and on about being the Perfect Child (never underestimate the power of a good guilt trip), I'll be able to dredge up from my faulty memory a moment when I really did jump, unasked, to my mom's assistance. And if I can't draw one from memory, I'll just make one up. I'm pretty sure that's something scary old ladies do, too. And when the kids are gone, I'll just tell my cats how wonderful I was.

Hope springs eternal!

The weather here has been weird lately. A couple of weeks ago we got several inches of snow. Naturally, it fell on a day when I had a lot of running around to do.

But we got over it, I didn't wreck the car, and eventually the weather warmed up. Late last week, we saw temperatures in the 70s. Aside from wreaking havoc with my joints and giving me bigtime sinus headaches, changes in the weather don't really bother me that much.

But I'm ready for spring now. The signs are there!

Friday afternoon, I picked up Drama Princess at home after work and we went to the dress shop to see her new formal and arrange for alterations. When we got back home, I happened to glance over at the little flower bed that runs along my front porch.

"Look, DP!" I shouted. "My daffodils are coming up!"

Sure enough, several bunches of little green spears are poking up out of the ground. Some actually have little buds that will one day burst open to reveal bright yellow blooms. I can't wait.

I rushed into the house and dragged His Nibs out to see this wonderful sign of glory to come. And lo! Not only are my daffodils coming up, but I already have one lovely purple crocus on the other side of the front steps. Wait, there's more! Last fall, a dear friend separated a bazillion irises and gave some to me. I planted those around the autumn flame maple tree we planted in the front yard several years ago. Those irises are coming up as well. I don't even know what color(s) they will be, but the surprise will be well worth the wait.

The tree has buds on it, as do my burning bushes and even my blueberry bushes, although my raspberries are still dormant and I don't expect fruit on any of them this year. Still, I'm very excited about these signs of new life.

I'm not much of a gardener, but His Nibs and I put in four beds last year and planted a few vegetables and herbs, and some tomatoes. Because we planted late in the year, we didn't get much, but we're ready this year. I'm already making lists and scoping out seeds and contemplating requesting cuttings from friends and watching to see when my favorite nursery reopens for the season. I'm spending more time outdoors, walking the dog and just looking over my garden beds and mentally planning where I'll be putting in the tomatoes and squash and peppers and herbs this year. His Nibs and I are discussing where to plant and store root vegetables. We're kicking around ideas for our flower beds, too.

Spring will bring its share of chores that need to be done as well, to be sure: Siding that needs to be fixed, some painting we'll have to do, yard work, windows to replace. It'll be time-consuming and, no doubt, expensive and definitely hard work. Somehow, though, when it's your own little nest, it doesn't seem so daunting. I'm looking forward to sprucing things up on the outside of my home.

I may even go so far as to plant a spruce or two.

One of these days it's going to have to be all about me

This past weekend was mighty busy for certain moms, which is to say, my kids' mom. And it all centered around the kids. So what else is new?

Friday afternoon, Daredevil called me at work.

Daredevil: Hey, Mom, what ya doon? [He says this with something that might be a brogue; hard to tell.]

Me: Working. How 'bout you?

Daredevil: Hey, Mom, you know that public library on Main Street?

Me: You mean the one a couple of blocks from here? It's on 10th Street, but yeah, I know it. Why?

Daredevil: Can you take me there tonight? The new Escapist video is premiering there tonight.

[Note: Escapist is the local skateboard Mecca, complete with its own skate team--heroes all. They have several videos out, exhibiting the team members' mad skateboard skills and death-defying exploits. It hurts just to watch them.]

Me: What time?

Daredevil: Dunno. Maybe 5:00.

Me: Okay, you know I don't leave here until 4:30. No way can we be back here by 5:00.

And so it goes. As it turns out, the premier began at 7:00 and it wasn't at the branch on 10th Street--it was at the one on 48th and Main. This required some planning to figure out how to get there from where we live without getting lost or being late. Oh, and it cost me five bucks, too. Lucky for me parking was free.

So while Daredevil and a couple of his buddies (who rode with us, naturally) checked out the new skate video, I spent a couple of hours hanging around in the library, checked out two books, and read for a while. Not really my idea of a hoppin' Friday night, but then I'm just a mom. Not supposed to hop any more, I guess.

Saturday morning it was Drama Princess' turn. She had to be at the Truman Library in Independence by 8:00 that morning, to register for her participation in National History Day events.

Normally, this would be about a 15-minute drive, tops. But we got a couple of inches of snow overnight, and it was still snowing when we left the house. By some miracle, I got her there on time and with no driving mishaps, but then I had to go home, shower and dress, and return to the Truman Library to see her performance.

That time, I didn't make it. The roads were considerably worse than they had been the first time out, and once I arrived I couldn't find the room she was in. But after their performance, I hung around with her and her friends and their moms (and one dad and one little brother), went to lunch with them, returned to the Library and looked at the exhibits (which are pretty darn cool for all you history enthusiasts out there), and finally came the time for the awards ceremony. By the time that was over, it was well after 4:00. Kiss that day good-bye.

Meanwhile, my house was a wreck, the grocery shopping hadn't been done, I had at least six loads of laundry awaiting my attention . . . the list goes on and on. To say nothing of the fact that I didn't see much of His Nibs at all! Something's gotta give.

This coming weekend we will celebrate Daredevil's birthday. That's Saturday. Sunday is church, and then the rest of the day is all mine. And I dare anything to try to stop me! Including the weather. His Nibs is another matter.