When I Grow Up …

When I grow up (some day I promise I will), I want to be/do a lot of things. I’ve been working on a list. And here it is, as of today ~

  • Outgrow my psoriasis. (Dr. G. swears I will.)
  • Pay cash for a hybrid Lexus RX 350.
  • Be proficient on Twitter. (Cassidy set me up last week. I forget how already.)
  • Count my blessings more.
  • Focus on my flaws less.
  • Become the poster child (paid, of course) for Fiber Con. (Can’t function without it.)
  • Hear either, or both, of my daughters say, “Mom, I totally get it now.”
  • Go on a month-long mission to Kenya with my sister.
  • Quit obsessing about the Cottage Cheese and learn to accept the Crepe Paper.
  • Quit holding a grudge so long. And so tightly.
  • Get to the point that uploading (or is it downloading?) a photo on Facebook is second nature.
  • Sublet a flat/apartment with Chuck, for three months at a time, in London.
  • … and/or Prague.
  • … and/or Charleston.
  • …and/or Tuscany.
  • Look back at Romney’s presidency as the one that turned the country around.
  • Have my grandkids (not a hint, C and J) call me “Gramsy” or “Gammy” or “Mimi.” (So darn cute.)
  • Learn how to tie a pretty bow.
  • Still do the StairMaster most every day, even if it’s at Level 2.
  • Go to Uganda with Cassidy.
  • Shop ’til I drop, with Julia, in NYC.
  • Still live for Friday nights at 5:00. Chardonnay time!
  • But here’s what I really want to do when I grow up!

Turn up the volume! Watch! Listen! Dance!

Press here now!

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One Response to When I Grow Up …
  1. Wavy Davy
    October 19, 2012 | 8:26 pm

    One question…. why do you wait until 5 to start drinking?

About Me

It's true! Despite playing defense virtually all my life against the onslaught of this sometimes-ugly aging process, it...has...arrived! I naively thought I would escape cellulite (the Cottage Cheese) and crow's feet (the Crepe Paper). But I didn't! And why didn't anyone tell me about this emotional roller-coaster that comes with being an Empty-Nester?! My name is Jodie Barringer Myers. I'm a 54-year-old Friday/chardonnay/ hydrangea-loving wife/mom/court reporter living in Sacramento (Gold River!), California. Writing is cathartic for me. And because I look to find humor and humility among the rubble that is my now very peri-menopausal self, I'm hopeful that you will laugh, cry, learn, enjoy and, most of all, relate to what I have to say. After all, we're all in this together, right?

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