"Act Your Age"

“Act your age.”

I was incredulous. And my son’s friend said it with all of the confidence of someone who knows exactly how someone “my age” should act, being that he is 15 years old and wise in all the ways that count in these matters.

Well, it was clear at the moment that someone needed to school him in what exactly women “my age” act like when they are told to “act your age”: I gave him a wedgie.

But then I began to wonder, how are 40 something year olds supposed to act? What is acting my age? Some women my age are grandmothers. Others, like Kelly Preston, are having babies. I myself am the mother of a 15 year old and a six year old. And not surprisingly I was one of the older moms picking up my son at kindergarten this year.

But who I am and how I am supposed to act is not based on my motherhood status or even the state of my skin tone (read: laugh lines and wrinkles). Frankly, if there is some sort of age appropriate way to act at this stage of my life, I didn’t get the memo. According to 15 year old boys, acting my age is more about what NOT to do…giving someone rabbit ears in a group photo or even, gasp, fist bumping. Not cool.

I think the directive to “act your age” coming from a 15 year old boy says more about his age and development than it does about mine. I remember being that age. He probably believes that there is some adult state of nirvana or confidence or something that is achievable. I’m pretty sure I believed that at some point, at some age or stage or my life I would “feel like an adult.”

Yeah, I’m still waiting for it. I don’t feel much older than I did at 15 or even 12. I’m certain that in most cases I act the way I’m supposed to…I pay my bills, I get my car serviced, I clean my house and prepare meals for my family. I am responsible. And I do NOT do any of the things women in denial about their age do like dress in low rider pants with my belly hanging out or get random body piercings or tattoos.

I guess having a teenager is God’s way of reminding me what I suspected in junior high: I am NOT cool. I am not funny. Every time I open my mouth I am just embarrassing myself. Yeah, yeah. What I have learned from the last 30 years of life experiences though, is I don’t care. When I laugh at myself, have fun in a crowd, get silly…I AM acting my age.

Writer's Block

I have writer’s block. Just yesterday I had blog title block. In fact, I’ve had blog title block for the last three or four months. Well, okay, years.

I would tell myself, “If you just come up with a pithy, humorous title, the blog will flow.” See, I have these random musings in my brain. Comments my kids make that crack me up. Quirky ideas that make me chuckle. Brilliant ideas that would benefit all mankind. But how can I blog unless I have a great name? An epic title worthy of all my musings. Ha.

I have an eclectic brain. So what is an eclectic original title? All the good ones are taken. Orange is the New Black…taken. Pride and Prejudice…taken. Gone With the Wind…taken. Decided that plagiarizing from best sellers was NOT the way to go. Came up with, “Ignore me at your peril.” And frankly, I’m still smitten with that one. But since this is not an advice blog entirely, I didn’t think that would fit. Plus that’s a tough order to live up to, giving good advice all the time.

As long as I didn’t have a title, I didn’t have to be writing. See how that works? And as long as I didn’t have a title, the ideas kept coming at me. I’d start them in my head…then get back to the problem of a title. What we have here is epic procrastination. But all good procrastinators know that you eventually have to stop…so you can find something else to procrastinate about.

So last night in my sleep I came up with “It was funnier in my head.” Doesn’t my subconscious know that I was procrastinating? Betrayed. Out of excuses.

Setting up the blog was the easy part, though. Until I typed in my title. It Was Funnier in my Head…taken. Yeah well, whatever. I’m using it anyway. Until a book with that title ends up on the New York Times Bestseller list, it is fair game as far as I’m concerned. So my problem is solved.

Pithy, humorous title adopted. Now, where are all those great ideas? Blank page. Blinking cursor. I’m back in the procrastinating game. Only this time I get to call it writer’s block. This blog business isn’t as easy as it looks.