Maybe it’s because I’ve been freaking out lately that later this year I’ll be 37 years old. Maybe it’s because my oldest daughter only has two more years of high school left and we’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time sifting through university catalogues. Or maybe it’s because lately I’ve been feeling a little bit bored.
But whatever the reason, I’ve been feeling the need to shake things up around here. It started with moving the living room furniture around just enough that my children keep stubbing their toes on everything. Then I focused on the closets and the pantry. No closet was safe. My pantry now sparkles and no one knows where anything belongs anymore because I changed everything.
After I confused everyone with the closets and pantry I moved on to recipes. Every single recipe I’ve ever wanted to try, I’m trying. We had tofu last night.
Either I don’t know how to properly prepare tofu or people genuinely like eating tasteless rubbery goo. My kids are still trying to cleanse their palates by wiping a tea towel against their tongue. Tofu was not a hit.
But the corn chowder was. It’s a bit hit and miss right now.
I even started folding the towels in a new way.
Nothing screams “Mom is having a bit of a mid-life crisis!” by folding the towels in a new direction after 20 odd years of folding them in another.
While I haven’t quite reached the stage of wanting to shave my head bald and beat a car with an umbrella a la Britney Spears, I’m starting to think my recent obsession with change is my way of dealing with the fact that soon my teenagers will be out of the house and I’ll be living in an empty nest. At the very same time I’ll be staring 40 in the face.
Not only will I be saying goodbye to my youth and waltzing into my middle aged years, but I’ll be watching my teens spread their wings and fly far away from me. All within the same few years.
I may as well buy a rocking chair, get a few cats and start knitting because it’s only a blink away before I’ll be the crazy old cat lady who makes ugly afghans for charity raffles because she has no real life.
If I start changing things up now, things I can control, like which way my mushroom soup labels face and which shelf the cereal boxes sit on in the pantry, maybe I’ll be able to avoid the transition to the crazy old cat lady.
Maybe mastering tofu is what will help stave off the sadness I feel at knowing my youth is almost spent.
And maybe folding the towels in halves instead of thirds will mean I won’t notice my kids are just one step closer to not being regular fixtures in my everyday life anymore.
Or maybe not.
Maybe by enduring small changes now I’ll be able to survive the real changes I’m facing in my not so distance future. Practice makes perfect after all.
Maybe, I just need to fold my socks instead of making them into sock balls.