Posted on 04/12/2009 12:15:48 PM PDT by 1believer
Heh. Fear not!
My dad was 52 when I was born, and there was another baby seven years after me.
My dad was my hero; I was his shadow. Don’t “decide” something is beyond your ken until you have tried it.
Children have a tendency to arrive when they are “needed,” and not when they are “wanted.”
Outside of that...I’ll shet mah mouf!!
I always told myself my kids belonged to someone older...
And I’m STILL not old!! I’ll be a great-gramma by the end of January, but it’s happening to someone “older!”
See?
I don’t have good genes. Therefore, allow me some time to worry.
I sometimes think my whole life is happening to someone else ;-).
I just want to be there for them as they start having their kids. Gonna be pushing it as it is.
Well, okay. You can worry. And watch out for radiation and fatty foods!
Kewl!
Just remember you’re only an “instrument” in God’s Hands.” The rest will fall into place. I promise!
*HUG*
BMI indicator says I have a 40% less chance of getting caner because of my muscles, but that I have a 20% higher chance of having a massive coronary.
Kicker is, I would live to 1000 if I could. 10,000. There is just so much of know and do out there. Most of us only ever scratch the surface of what we are truly capable of.
Well, all statistics are aggregates.
This baby can fall into place any time now!
Stop worrying about your genes. You’re Viking Stock. They are fighters and survivors.
You don’t really know which genes you inherited. Mom and Dad are only “vehicles” that insure you make it to maturity. Longiveity can hit you upside the head.
Your children are proof that you have something important to do before you die. Trust me: I’m a mother!! (With Time In Grade!)
56. It's okay.
Average life expectancy on a battlefield is 30 minutes.
Doesn't mean I plan on rolling over, reaching for my afghan, and spending the rest of my days in a rocking chair.
My dad died of liver cancer. My mother died of complications of heart surgery. A brother died of pancreatic cancer. A sister has Alzheimer's. Another has emphysema.
I'm not about to give up on myself, just because a few of my ancestors had things that couldn't be cured, or they weren't “diagnosed,” or there was no name for what they had.
I'm 65. I can still lift 50# above my head, when I need to; I can load a truck, unload it and put the load where it belongs, drive where I need/want to go as long as my truck holds out, and there is no way I intend to die any time in the next 20 or 30 years.
My kids will just have to live with my longevity!
The only “battlefield” you’re on is the one of propaganda.
Don’t fall for any of it!
Oh well... Wasn't like I had anything planned over the next couple of days.
Hang tough, DC!
Nobody said parenting was “easy!”
Pshaw!
Sixty is the new forty. Ana will be dragging you to the tennis court so she can get exercise.
Besides, all that stuff you're worried about? You can make it go away by just eating the right breakfast cereal. I saw it on TV.
I’ve mopped the floors again, but now I need to take a shower, or I might break out the Murphy’s Oil Soap. Don’t want to totally seize up, when I have to go to the bank (again - OldTax-lady is shuffling investments) and the doctor tomorrow.
You all have a good evening and try not to get too depressed!
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