Half a century

Half a century

In November, I will be fifty. It’s a somewhat difficult number for me to say, to deal with. No longer can I justify being mid-life, not unless the life expectancy for women suddenly jumps to the age of one hundred. In a few short days, I will no longer be in my forties. It’s been a tough pill to swallow.

What’s really been tough is that now in my advanced age, I have no grandchildren! There isn’t even one on the horizon. At this moment, there are no possibilities. That concerns me. I believe I am ready for grandchildren and I think I would make a good grandmother.

My grandmother was forty-two when I was born and my mother was only thirty-nine when my daughter, her first grandchild, was born. I’ve put in my time, now I believe it’s time for my reward!

I have two grand-dogs, but I’m not sure they really count. I do buy them treats and spoil them on visits, but you just can’t take your grand-dog to an amusement park for the day, and a trip to Disneyland is certainly out of the question.

I’d make a great grandmother! I’ve been preparing our house for grandchildren for the past several years. Every time my husband threatens to close up the pool, I urge him to leave it open for our future grandchildren. I tell him that those kids will love the horses down at the barn and the stream in the back field. He thinks a condo would be more practical for us. Practical, yes, maybe, but grandchild friendly, I think not. So we have not yet moved into that condo. I’m holding out.

We were recently visiting friends who have two small daughters. I was able to occupy myself for much of our visit entertaining the two young girls. I kept the baby quiet, we bounced and smiled and giggled. I played games and read with the older one, although she was much more adept with an Ipad than I was. My friend commented about how good I was with the kids. “I’m practicing,” I told him. Then my son chimed in that I had plenty of time to practice because there was not a great likelihood that those skills would be needed any time soon!

My thirty-fifth high school reunion will be held in 2013, and I will be 52 at that reunion. Several of my classmates were already grandparents at our last reunion. I assured them that by the thirty-fifth I, too, would join their ranks. The clock is ticking away.

Who knows? Maybe I will live to be one hundred and this is just my mid-life crisis. Some people want sports cars, others crave exotic travel…my crisis is grandchildren!
I will be printing copies of this column to give to my children as Christmas presents.