Younger Men

P (age 5): “How old is Grammy?”

Me: “74”

P: “How old is Grandpop?”

Me: “73”

P: “Grammy is bigger than Grandpop?!”

G (age 7, know it all): They love each other. That’s all that matters.

We’re talking 6 months here, people.

younger men

What is it with little girls (especially) desiring that the man in a relationship should be older? Why is that such a big deal?  Are little boys obsessed with this as well?

I’m sure, as a child, I probably assumed that men should be older than the women they married, but I don’t think I lost much sleep over it. In fact, I think I married a younger man (my ex-husband didn’t have a birth certificate, so we really don’t know – really long story about being born in a village.) If I had any age difference issues I suppose I got over them.

All my life I have preferred older men, yet, here in my forties, I think I would be cool with a younger man, if that were meant to be. Not too young, mind you, I have no desire to be with a man who has a significantly smaller amount of life experience than me; that’s bound to turn out bad.

But a little bit younger wouldn’t be too bad – I’d just make sure not to mention his age to my kids…

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You Know Women Live Here

My plate is overflowing lately (figuratively, not literally – I mostly just eat Fiber 1 cereal in a bowl), so I’ve been constrained to blogging in my head. But until I get some free moments to transfer from my brain to my fingertips, here are some FABULOUS finds from the thrift store today.

Paris Inspired Bathrooms here we come…

Four AMAZING Vintage Paris prints are perfect for our new Paris inspired bathroom. $24!

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Super cute shower curtain for $3. This will go in the little girls’ bathroom.

I won this ultra fab brand new shower curtain with rings on eBay. I got it for a steal.

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So, uh, yeah – this is a household of women. We can decorate this way.

Follow the deals and steals on bloglovin’

I’m Forty and This is What I Eat

I’m forty years old and this is what I eat.

If you have been following along (or are new – hello) you may recall that I have taken a mini-vacation from childrearing, work, home duties, basically all that everyday life stuff, to get away alone for two and a half days. No people. No TV. No Wifi. No shopping. No touring. No eating out. Just me, the Lord, a couple good books and a lot of walking. And a lot of quiet. Have I mentioned the quiet?

It has been scrumptious. But I digress…

I didn’t want to worry about cooking, obviously, so I packed a bag of essentials and have been living off them since Sunday afternoon – i.e. 48 hours. Not pictured, but also present (always) – Diet Snapple – naturally. Some pita chips and BLT fixin’s would have been nice but I didn’t have time.

I’m forty and this is what I eat.

What are your go-to food items?

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Shimmying

shimmy

I like to wear skinny jeans because when I pull them up I get to do a little shimmy to get them over my bottom. I love to shimmy. We good Christian girls don’t get many opportunities for shimmying. I take what I can get.

I shimmied into my bathing suit for the first time yesterday since last summer. There was also some tucking and stuffing involved.

My eleven year old was having a birthday party with her two besties at the local indoor water park and I admit to seriously looking forward to those five hours in the hot tub by myself. Sadly, I was hardly alone, the hot tub was packed. On top of that, most of the jets didn’t work and the ones that did were so forceful I needed a seatbelt to keep myself from being ejected from the seat and out of the pool. To top it off, as soon as I sat down, a man with a towel on his head (yes, an actual towel) sat right in my personal space. Not cool.

However, before any of this ever happened, I did need to spend a little extra time in the shower shaving parts of me that hadn’t seen a razor since last August. The Winter Build Up. I figured if the amount of time shaving The Winter Build Up equaled the amount of time I would get to relax in the hot tub, it would be a pretty fair trade.

In the end I spent most of my time with a damp towel wrapped around me (not my head) reading a novel that I read before. Not bad for a Monday night.

And at least I enjoyed the shimmy.