I Think I’m Becoming an Old Lady… and I’m Surprisingly Okay With It

Somewhere along the way, I became an old lady.

Not overnight. It kind of snuck up on me.

One day you’re buying cute shoes, and the next you’re genuinely excited about finding a face cream that’s on sale… even though you know good and well it’s not going to erase 61 years of laughing, worrying, and squinting.

I actually like the idea of sleeping with a few curlers in my hair. I have an entire lineup of anti-aging creams, all making promises they have absolutely no intention of keeping. I fill my pill organizer every month and feel ridiculously accomplished when it’s done. It’s weirdly satisfying.

I also never expected certain smells to become comforting. The smell of Noxzema, baby oil, and Mentholatum has a whole new effect on me now. They don’t just remind me of my childhood anymore—they remind me of where I am today. They’re the scents of scraped knees, sunburns, grandparents, sick days… and now achy muscles and bedtime routines. It’s funny how life comes full circle. The very things that remind me of my youth have somehow become the comforts of my aging. It’s a full-circle moment for all of my senses.

I’ve become a person who loves a routine. I love when it’s just Dennis and me at home. After 33 years together, there’s something comforting about knowing each other’s habits. We don’t even have to talk all the time. Just being in the same house somehow feels like home.

I’ve got wind chimes hanging in the yard. Ceramic frogs that I’ve randomly decided deserve names. Crystals hanging in my trees—one for each grandchild—because it makes me smile when the sun catches them.

I’ve reached the age where birds are suddenly fascinating. I know which squirrel is stealing from the bird feeder. I get excited when a plant I was sure I killed decides to make a comeback. I have opinions about birdseed, hummingbirds, and whether it’s going to rain based on how my knees feel.

I wave at strangers. I get excited over a new kitchen gadget I’ll probably use twice. I tell people to “drive careful.” I compare prices just for the thrill of saving 37 cents. I turn the TV down so I can read the captions. I get irrationally excited when I buy a new sponge or finally find a container that fits leftovers perfectly.

And don’t even get me started on how much joy a good nap can bring.

Twenty-five-year-old me would be horrified.

Sixty-one-year-old me is living her best life.

Growing older isn’t just about wrinkles or gray hair. It’s about finding comfort in the little things. It’s about building a life that finally feels peaceful. It’s about realizing that home isn’t a place—it’s a person you’ve spent the last 33 years laughing with.

So yes… I think I’m becoming an old lady.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on my ceramic frogs.

Common Sense Called. It’s Tired of Your Shit,

Oh YES. 😂 And I think it could be bigger than one post. “Somebody Needed to Say It” could be an entire series for your blog—basically common sense with a little sarcasm.

Here’s how I’d open the first one:

Somebody Needed to Say It

I’ve decided common sense isn’t dead.

It’s just exhausted.

It’s sitting somewhere in sweatpants, drinking coffee, watching the rest of us make completely avoidable problems and whispering, “You have GOT to be kidding me.”

Because I’m starting to notice how many things we call problems aren’t actually problems.

They’re consequences.

We procrastinate. We ignore things. We spend money we don’t have. We don’t read the directions. We don’t make the appointment. We don’t save for the thing we’ve known about for six months.

Then the completely predictable thing happens and suddenly—

EMERGENCY!

No.

Sometimes that’s not an emergency.

Sometimes that’s Tuesday finally catching up with Monday.

We wait until the gas light has been on for three days and then act personally betrayed when the car stops.

We ignore the check-engine light because apparently covering it with a strategically placed Post-it Note is now automotive repair.

We know the electric bill comes every month. Yet somehow every month we’re stunned that the electric company would like money in exchange for electricity.

Christmas arrives on December 25th EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR.

Birthdays are even easier. They’re literally printed on the birth certificate.

Your driver’s license tells you when it expires.

Your tags tell you when they expire.

Your prescription bottle tells you when you’re running out.

Your child’s school tells you when school starts.

The dentist has been telling you about that tooth for two years.

And that weird noise your washing machine has been making since Easter?

It did not heal itself.

But humans possess an incredible ability to ignore something for six months and then demand that somebody else fix it TODAY.

And we do the same thing with behavior.

We don’t tell somebody they’ve been bothering us.

We don’t set a boundary.

We don’t say no.

We don’t have the uncomfortable conversation.

Instead, we let it simmer for approximately seven years until they put the serving spoon in the wrong drawer and suddenly we’re screaming,

“AND ANOTHER THING…”

Ma’am.

This is not about the spoon.

Somebody needed to say it.

We complain we’re tired while staying up until 2 a.m. watching people we’ve never met argue on Facebook.

We complain we’re broke while DoorDash is bringing us a $19 hamburger from a restaurant four minutes away.

We complain that our house is cluttered while Amazon is currently locating our residence with three additional packages.

We complain nobody calls us.

Our phone also makes outgoing calls.

We complain our kids won’t get off their phones while we’re typing the complaint from our phone.

We want our children to be responsible while we’re emailing their teacher because little Johnny forgot his homework for the fourth time.

Maybe Johnny needs the zero.

Johnny will survive.

We have become very good at rescuing ourselves and each other from consequences—and then wondering why nobody learns anything.

Sometimes the answer really is that simple.

Go to bed.

Make the appointment.

Save the money.

Return the call.

Read the instructions.

Get gas.

Say no.

Apologize.

Stop buying crap.

Let your kid be disappointed.

And for the love of everything holy, change the smoke-detector battery instead of listening to it chirp for four months.

Not every inconvenience is trauma.

Not every disagreement is toxic.

Not every uncomfortable feeling requires somebody else to change.

Not every bad decision deserves a rescue mission.

And not every problem needs a complicated solution.

Sometimes you already know exactly what you need to do.

You just don’t particularly want to do it.

That’s where common sense comes in.

And apparently common sense needs a spokesperson.

Fine. I’ll do it.

Somebody needed to say it. 😂

Children: The Subscription You Can’t Cancel

Kids are expensive. There. I said it.

And this is one of those facts that really shouldn’t sneak up on anybody. Children cost money before they’re born, and they pretty much keep costing money until one of you dies. It’s basically the longest subscription service you’ll ever sign up for—and there is absolutely no cancellation button.

First, it’s cribs, diapers, formula, bottles, toys, and daycare. Then it’s clothes they outgrow approximately eleven minutes after you buy them.

Then comes school. School supplies. Backpacks. Lunches. Field trips. Sports fees. Cleats. Uniforms. Band instruments. Band uniforms. Braces. Birthday parties. Christmas presents. Fast food eaten in the car because you’ve got one kid at practice and another kid playing a game across town.

Then somebody needs a car. And apparently cars need gas, tires, repairs and insurance. Who knew?

Then there’s prom (Sometimes 5!) Graduation. College. Weddings. And just when you think you’ve finally crossed the financial finish line—grandkids.

You will probably spend more money raising your children than you’ll ever spend on yourself. That’s parenting. Nobody promised it would be cheap.

What I don’t understand is why predictable expenses keep becoming emergencies. School starts at approximately the same time every single year. Christmas has been stubbornly hanging onto December 25th for quite some time. Soccer season isn’t a surprise attack. Neither is cheerleading, band, football, or prom.

So when you’re online five days before a deadline saying you desperately need somebody to buy your child’s supplies, equipment, uniform, or Christmas presents, sometimes that isn’t an emergency. Sometimes it’s poor planning.

And yes, real hardship exists. People lose jobs. People get sick. Cars break down. Houses burn. Families leave abusive situations. Life can absolutely knock somebody flat overnight, and I’m all for helping people through those situations. That’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about regularly signing your child up for things you already know you cannot afford and then expecting strangers to cover the bill.

Electives are elective.

If an activity costs $500 and you don’t have $500, you may have to say no. That’s not cruel. That’s parenting within your means.

And I’m probably really going to irritate somebody with this next part. If your family consistently cannot afford basic necessities while you’re choosing to be a stay-at-home parent, then you may need to reconsider whether your family can afford for you to stay home.

Being a stay-at-home parent is work. Absolutely. But financially, it’s also a choice that only works when the household income can support it. If you’re sitting at home while repeatedly asking churches, agencies and working people online to pay for your children’s school supplies, sports equipment, and other optional expenses, something in that equation needs to change.

Children also learn responsibility by watching us. We tell them to do their homework, brush their teeth, eat properly, save their money, meet deadlines, and think ahead. Then we can’t act shocked when December shows up and we haven't bough a single gift.

(Christmas is 131 days away from today. There. That’s your warning.)

If money is tight, start putting away $5 or $10 when you can. Buy things throughout the year. Shop clearance. Buy used sports equipment. Set a Christmas budget. Tell the kids there may be fewer presents this year. Skip an activity you can’t afford. And sometimes—this is going to hurt—your child may be disappointed.

That’s okay.

Children can survive disappointment. In fact, learning that we can’t always have everything we want is probably one of the more useful lessons we can teach them. I hate seeing a child go without. Most people do. That’s exactly why last-minute pleas work: good people don’t want children to suffer.

But ultimately, they’re your children.

Other people’s generosity should be the safety net when life genuinely goes wrong. It shouldn’t be the family financial plan. So before school starts, plan for school. Before sports season, plan for sports. Before Christmas, plan for Christmas. And if you can’t afford something, sometimes the answer simply has to be no. Plan earlier. Spend smarter. Work if you need to. Do without when you have to.

Because raising children is expensive. But that part was never a surprise.

Pride Starts at Home

You ever heard the saying, "It starts with you?"

Well… sometimes that's exactly where we need to start looking.

I've seen people from other countries visit America and leave talking about how beautiful it is, how kind people were, and how grateful they were for the opportunities they found here. Meanwhile, some Americans spend every day tearing down the very country they call home. Make that make sense.

Nobody is saying America has a perfect history. It doesn't. No country does. But if you can look at where we started and where we are today and not see the progress made by people of every race, culture, and background, maybe you're so focused on the cracks that you've forgotten to appreciate the foundation.

You can't complain about division while adding to it. You can't demand kindness while choosing bitterness. You can't say you want a better America while rooting for it to fail just so you can be proven right.

At some point, constantly pointing out what's wrong without ever acknowledging what's right doesn't make you part of the solution. It just makes you another voice adding to the noise.

People notice. They notice what you celebrate. They notice what you share. They notice whether your words leave people with hope or just one more reason to be angry.

Right now there are people running across America carrying the flag, celebrating this country, its people, and how far we've come. At the very same time, there are people sitting behind a screen convinced there's nothing worth celebrating. Maybe that's worth thinking about. Because change really does start with each of us.

If all we're doing is criticizing without contributing, we're not helping the country heal. We're becoming the cavity that's slowly eating away at it. And cavities don't fix themselves. 

Well… That’s Not Something You See Every Day

I’ve seen some pretty unusual things traveling Oklahoma roads over the years. I’ve seen those giant windmill blades being hauled down the highway. I’ve seen boats, houses, and all kinds of oversized loads. I’ve even seen tornado chasers with enough cameras, antennas, and gadgets strapped to the roofs of their vehicles.

Living in Oklahoma, I’ve even seen a pickup truck turned into a swimming pool, cruising through town with a bunch of teenagers splashing around in their own portable swim tank. I’ve seen people ride horses through the drive-thru at a burger joint and cool their horses off at the car wash. Truth be told, I can’t judge too much… years ago, I used to cool my daycare kids off at the car wash on our field trip walks back to the center! But today topped all of that.

I was driving through town, sitting at a stoplight, minding my own business, when a truck drove right past me… pulling a helicopter.

A. Helicopter.

Not a toy one. Not a picture of one. An actual helicopter rolling down the road behind a pickup truck.

I just sat there staring, wondering if I was seeing things. It definitely woke me up more than my coffee did!

Of course, the one time I see something that bizarre is the one time my phone is buried in my purse because I was driving responsibly. I always have my phone with me, but never in my hand while I’m driving. By the time I found it, the helicopter was long gone. Figures!

Then I started laughing because it reminded me of Matthew.

Years ago, Matthew had a little fender bender and blamed it on a helicopter. He said one was landing right beside the road, he looked up to watch it, and… well… the car in front of him stopped before he did. I thought that was the dumbest excuse I’d ever heard.

“Oh, sure, Matthew. The helicopter made you hit the car.” We’ve laughed about that story for years. But sitting there at that stoplight today, watching a helicopter roll past me on a trailer, I had one very humbling thought… Thank goodness this light is red, because if I had been driving instead of sitting there, there’s a pretty good chance I’d have been explaining to my insurance company, “Well… you see… there was this helicopter…”

So, Matthew… I owe you an apology. I finally believe you. I’m still going to tease you about it… but now I completely understand.