I turned 50 a while back. Or maybe I’m going to be 50 soon. I forget which. I like to be coy. Nonetheless, I jotted down a random list of 50 things I’ve learned or observed in 50 years. These things may not be universally true, but they are true for me.

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1. If you want to be really really good at something, you will probably have to forsake something else in your life. The pursuit of excellence in any given field is not conducive to moderation or balance.  Either balance is overrated or excellence is — I’m not sure which, but you can’t really have both.

2. Being average is not a bad thing – there’s a lot of good company in the middle of the pack.

3. In most matters, done is better than perfect. But done right is better than done fast, except for housework.  Then good enough is good enough.

4. Never say “It can’t get worse.” It can get worse. It can definitely get worse.

5. It’s better to be content than rich. Riches are easier to come by than contentment.

6. You can disagree with someone and still like them.

7. You can dislike someone and still be kind to them.

8. Education is as much about enlightenment as employment. Education is never a waste.

9. You’ll never know how much your parents love you until you have your own child.

10. You’ll never know how much you hurt your parents until you have your own child.

11. No one will remember what shoes or earrings you wore to the party.

12. Getting drunk is extremely uncool.  Always has been.

13. Honor your father and mother so that it might go well with you.

14. There are three things you can do to make your life very very difficult – making babies too young and without commitment, using drugs, and getting involved in credit card debt. I only know of one first hand; the other two I managed to avoid by the grace of God.

15. Teachers and nurses are two of the few vocations where you can really make a difference in the life of another human being. The rest of us are just pushing paper.

16. Maintaining flexibility is the key to aging well. Stretch your mind and body a little each day.

17. Life is a series of peaks and valleys. Like the weather, it’s always about to change.

18. Nothing in the mall will make you happy. For very long.

19. We can’t all be leaders.

20. If you can’t be a good leader, be a good follower.

21. Make sure the person you are following is taking you where you want to go.

22. Nothing good comes of a secret.

23. On the other hand, every thought does not need to be expressed.

24. Anger poisons the soul. A grudge prisons the soul. Forgiveness purifies the soul. Forgive with haste.

25. When you win an argument, you really lose.

26. Concede whenever you can.

27. Career is a fancy name for a job.

28. No matter how bad you think you look right now, 10 years from now you will wish you looked as good.

29. The only thing that makes me smarter than when I was 20 is that now I have an awareness of how little I really know.

30. Whatever stylish thing you are wearing right now will look ridiculous in 10 years.

31. Encourage more, criticize less.

32. Use the guest towels.

33. Television is anesthesia. Watch as little as possible.

34. Life is short. But it could also be long – start saving when you are young.

35. Quality Time is a big fat modern lie when it comes to your kid. Go for Quantity Time.

36. Life is too short to spend time trying to get curly hair be straight or straight hair to be curly. Find a hairstyle that suits your hair.

37. The only way to lose weight is to eat less and move more.

38. Fashion magazines are designed to make you feel badly about yourself. Save your money.

39. Speak less, listen more.

40. Every day, no matter how cruddy, is a great day to be alive.

41. Smoking is ugly, smelly, stupid and looks silly. Don’t smoke.

42. Anyone who says they have no regrets is lying. We’ve all done and said regrettable things.

43. If you haven’t done anything regrettable, you haven’t lived. Or at least not long enough.

44. The perfect purse is worth every penny.

45. Grocery store make up is just as good as department store make up, but if paying 3x as much makes you feel better, that probably makes it worth it.

46. Say please and thank you to everyone, but especially to those who do the cruddy stuff no one else wants to do. Your kids are watching.

47. Be quick to tell your kid you are sorry when (not if) you mess up. That in and of itself is a teaching moment.

48. Don’t underestimate the power of silence to make a point.

49. Let your children (and those you love) know every day that you delight in them, that they are a source of joy in your life; that you are glad they were born.

50. The person who most needs your kindness is likely the last person to whom you want to be kind.

Sean begins kindergarten shortly after Labor Day. And like every other mother in America who is sending a child off to kindergarten, I can’t believe this day has arrived so quickly. It seems like just yesterday that we found out we were expecting.

I guess I should be reflecting on the past five years and how they have slipped away so quickly, but what I find myself thinking about is how the past 45 years have slipped away so quickly.

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was in kindergarten.  When I look at my kindergarten class picture, I can name nearly every student, the teacher and even the school principal.  I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten one single detail of my life, which in many ways is unfortunate, because there are many events which would best be forgotten.

Here is everything I remember about kindergarten:

I was in the afternoon class.  There were 30 kids in my class and one teacher — no aide like they have now.  The teacher’s name, God bless her real good, was Mrs. Kelly. According to the class picture, she had a first name and it started with “B” but no one ever knew what it was.

Mrs. Kelly was probably about 25 or 30, but in her picture she looks much older.  In 1965 everyone looked about 20 yeas older than they actually were. That was the style. I remember one time I called her “mom” by mistake and I thought I would die.

In the spring, Mrs. Kelly took the entire class on a walking field trip to the IGA which was half a block from school. We had to cross a set of defunct railroad tracks and a busy two-lane road to get to the store.  And just now I’m trying to imagine doing that with 30 5-year-olds and it gives me the shivers.

For reasons unknown, just before we got to the railroad tracks, Jean Ann D. freaked out and tried to run away.  Mrs. Kelly sprinted after her and chased her down.  I could not believe my eyes.  I was a compliant child and it would never have occurred to me to do something like that.  I distinctly remember wondering why on earth would anyone do such a crazy thing? Who doesn’t want to go to the grocery store?  When we got to the grocery store, the store manager opened a box of Capt’n Crunch and let everyone have a handful of cereal.    That pivotal moment cemented my deep and abiding love for Capt’n Crunch.

Mrs. Kelly broke her leg during the school year (maybe chasing after Jean Ann) and so she sometimes sat in the front of the class with her foot in a cast resting on a chair. She read “Make Way for Ducklings” and  “Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel” – still two of my favorite children stories.  I liked the way she held the books out to the side while she read so we could see the pictures.

One time Mrs. Kelly called me to the front of the room and pulled me up on her lap and felt my forehead.  She said I looked  like I didn’t feel well.   I had a fever and she called my dad to come and get me.  It made me feel special to sit in her lap.  I took note of it because I don’t think other than that one time, she knew I was in the class — not too surprising given the class size and the fact that I didn’t do anything crazy like run away.

One time Mrs. Kelly brought out a box of percussion musical instruments. Everyone picked one and we all marched around the room banging on whatever lame instrument we managed to grab.  I wanted the triangle, but never got it and I certainly never got the tambourine, even after Mrs. Kelly made everyone trade instruments with someone else.  I remember feeling mighty ridiculous marching around the room banging two sticks together.  Consequently, I never took band.

There was a little pretend grocery store set up in the classroom and sometimes we would get to play grocery store, my most absolute favorite activity.  I loved the tiny toy cash register. Everyone wanted to be the cashier. For many years thereafter, it was my dream to be a cashier.

One time just as the bell rang and the class was being dismissed, my boyfriend Jerry got a nose bleed.  The teacher had him lie down on the floor with his head tilted back.  All the students ran out of the room to go home, even the teacher was out in the hall.  Jerry started crying so I turned back and stayed with him in the empty classroom, kneeling down beside him as globs of blood dripped out of his nose and down the side of his face.  I was a compassionate angel of mercy even in those days.

One day, my dad was late picking me up from school.  All the other kids had gone home and I was the last one left. The school was eerily quiet and I was beginning to get concerned.  In those days, I thought a lot about becoming an orphan and made plans about what I would do if I became an orphan.  Once I heard the word orphan and learned what it meant, I could not think of anything else. As I waited for my dad, who might not be coming for me, I imagined my exotic life in an orphanage.  As I waited,  I didn’t cry, because it would have taken more than being orphaned to make me cry. Nonetheless, I was relieved to see him when he finally showed up.

My dad took me to school every day in his car, known as Clunker #2, which he had hand painted primer gray.  And every day before school, and I do mean every single day, he fixed me a boiled hotdog which he impaled with a fork and served up with a splotch of ketchup on a plate.  After a nutritious gourmet lunch, I would crawl up onto the bench seat of Clunker #2 beside my dad while he drove me to school. Because I was fiercely independent, I always jumped out and ran into the school by myself, never looking back.

The year I was three, I got a maid’s outfit for Christmas which included an apron, a hat and all the tools of the trade. One day I decided that I should like to wear the maid’s outfit to school.  Dad put his foot down on that one.  I threw a fit, but he stood firm and sent me back to my room to change. That was one of the few times in my life that my dad has said no to me.

Everyday before getting in the car to go to school, dad would make some clumsy attempt to make my course thick dry frizzy bad hair presentable.  He never succeeded, but he will certainly get a star in his crown for trying.

Jeannie S. wore a leg brace. Her parents owned a gas station.  Billy R. had braces on both legs and some sort of medical problem and my mom would have long telephone chats with his mom.  Brian M. had a spot on the middle of his nose and it was terribly cute.  Laura G. wasn’t quite right and was known to bite.  Rhonda D. used to roll up on her back during nap time and pull her panties down to her knees and then pull them back up as she rolled back  — another thing that would have never occurred to me to do.  There was so many new things to learn at school.   Cassie B. was the cutest girl in the whole class. She was also the cutest girl in high school.

One day, towards the end of the school year, my mom let me walk the 3/4  mile home with Jerry.  I don’t know if one of the moms followed us at a discreet distance, but not in ten million years would I let my 5-year-old walk a mile home down a busy road. Not in twenty million years.  It was a different time.

After graduating kindergarten, 13 of us went on to Catholic grade school together through 8^th grade and then we joined up again with most of the rest of the class in high school.

I still get together with Jerry and some of the other “kids” every couple of years and have dinner and wax nostalgic.  There’s something kind of cool about getting together with  people who share a history, people who are rooted in the same soil.

Sean is a lot like me. He compliant, forgets nothing and loves to play grocery store. In a week, he’ll begin making his own kindergarten memories and he’ll meet people with whom he’ll share a certain history.

And maybe if he’s really lucky, when he’s my age, he’ll still be connected to a few folks who occupied the same sweet kindergarten time and space.

After judging her Write Away contest for the month of April, Scribbit, the loveliest of all Alaskans,  asked if she could interview me.  I am powerless to say no to Scribbit. And couldn’t seem to resist the opportunity to navel gaze a little bit.  You may read the interview here if you would like.

While you are there, check out her new eBook “Blogging in Pink”  written especially for women bloggers – and it’s free.  She also has a fantastic newsletter, also free, that is loaded with lots of good stuff that you won’t want to miss.  Scrib is all about giving and I love that about her.

I’ve never owned a Christmas sweater. I’ve always felt like maybe I should have one. On several occasions I’ve even carried one around the store.  But I just can’t seem to take the plunge.  Just seems like too big of a commitment.

As well, I’ve never owned a pair of Christmas earrings, little dangling bulbs or ornaments or whatever.  I guess I’m not all about festive after all.

The red turtleneck is my standard holiday party outfit.

I’ve always wanted some nice Christmas china but never wanted to spend the big bucks on it or spend a lifetime collecting it.  Since it’s unlikely that I would inherit or win a set in a raffle, about 10 years ago I bought four boxes of $20/box  Christmas “china” and I love it.  We use it all through December. It makes every meal of the season a little brighter and the best part? I worry not one bit about breaking it.

See how festive a reindeer pancake can look on cheap Christmas china – does that not just scream Joyeux Noel y’all? It does, you know it does.

The best thing I ever did was buy a 6ft pre-lit tree for $30 at Target for Sean when he was three. It’s his tree. He’s got a box of soft and unbreakable ornaments and he can decorate and undecorated it to his heart’s content all season long.  He can put all the ornaments on one branch and I will not twitch nor will I flinch.  He can even pull it over on himself and no harm done. This $30 tree has ratcheted down the freak out level around here substantially.

I hate wrapping gifts. I have not bought wrapping paper in 15 years.  I love the gift bag – the bag that keeps on giving gifts.  Economic, easy, re-useable and no tape.

However, I love ribbon and can’t seem to stop myself from buying it.

I took four years of piano lessons in my early 30s just so that I could play Christmas songs. I’m not very good, but I enjoy it immensely, even if no one else does.

I don’t like to sing, but I love to sing Christmas songs.  I enjoy it immensely, even if no one else does.

I do not like Christmas shopping.  Truthfully, I don’t like the gifts part of Christmas.  The only time gift giving is not awkward to me is when it is spontaneous and not reciprocal.

My favorite memory of Christmas from when I was a child was going to Midnight Mass with my Godparents and coming home to drink hot chocolate and eat pizelles.

Three things always on my Christmas list:  inexpensive earrings, a tree ornament, books (art/photography books, poetry, cookbooks are my favorites).

The first year we were married, I warned AD to never buy me anything for Christmas that plugs in. Over the years, my stance on appliances has changed. I wouldn’t mind having a power washer.

When I was about five, I got a red velvet dress and a white rabbit fur muff for Christmas.  I only remember one or two other Christmas gifts which confirms my theory that sweating over finding the perfect gift is a waste of energy. Chances are you don’t even remember what you got for Christmas by the next day, let alone the year before.

On December 26^th, I will be itching to box it all up and get back to routine. On January 2^nd AD and I will have our annual fight about when the boxing up should occur.  He will lobby for a day in March.  On January 3^rd, he will concede.

Sean was due on Christmas day. He is by far the best gift of my entire life, because indeed, every good and perfect gift is from above.

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If you’ve made it this far, tell me some random holiday factoid about yourself.

Dawn tagged me with this lengthy meme and so here it is, thus filling my meme quota for the remainder of the year, perhaps even the decade. If this is just entirely too long to read, and I understand if it is, then scroll down to question 8 before moving along. That’s all you really need to know about me and this here blog.

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1. How long have you been blogging?

I started in July of 2005. Sean was around 18-months old and I needed a creative outlet that I could do in 15 minute increments, in between laundry and more laundry. We were in a church-search phase at the time and I went on-line to check service times at a church we were planning to visit and I saw one of those orange Blogger buttons on their site. I clicked on it and five minutes later I had a blog. Five minutes before that I had no idea what a blog was.

2. What are the good things blogging has brought to your life?

Friends! People I would have never met otherwise. Also some fun opportunities and a reason to sharpen my writing skills.

3. What would you consider the pitfalls?

Pitfalls can be managed. The good far outweighs the bad for me most of the time.

4. Tell us about your blog name. Ever think of changing it? If so, to what? Why?

I explain my blog name here, my first ever post. I never think of changing it, although people ask me that quite often which makes me wonder….

5. Knowing what you know now, was starting a blog a good thing for you? Why or why not?

Yes, I love writing and I love having people read what I write and I love the feedback. It’s also helped me record the little bits and pieces of my life with Sean that would otherwise be lost to the ages. If I stop writing today, I will have a substantial record of my motherhood up to this point for Sean that I hope he and his children will someday appreciate. If life takes a wrong turn for me and I’m not around into Sean’s adulthood, then I want him to be able to read about my life from my own hand and know me as the flawed but sincere human that I am separate from the sainted idealized view of me as his mother that he may have at this age.

6. How do you think blogging, bloggers, or the blogosphere has changed since you started?

There are a lot more people blogging these days. There also seems to be a lot more opportunities for all bloggers and blogging is seen more and more as a legitimate “voice” as is evidenced by the way the bloggers are affecting political opinion and how companies are courting the mommy blogging community.

8. Ultimately, what would you like your blog to accomplish for you or others?

I hope people who come to read Antique Mommy are edified in some way.

Who are you? Really?

1. Name something or a few things that bug you and expound. We want your unfettered opinion(s). Shouldn’t be blog related.

Not too much bugs me really. I have a low tolerance for bad manners, disrespect and snobbery but beyond that I’m kind of a go-along-get-along kind of gal. Not that I don’t complain about life’s minor annoyances and injustices because I do, as we all do.

2. Tell us about one of your best childhood memories.

My mom was really a lot of fun and was never bothered about messes or mistakes. She was good about playing with us and riding bikes with us and that kind of thing. There were a lot of kids in my neighborhood and the moms would all sit out on the front steps and drink tea and talk while the kids rode bikes in the street or turned cartwheels on the front lawn. It was a simple time, sweet and secure.

3. Describe your perfect day.

Coffee, some play time with my little boyfriend, some playtime with my big boyfriend and some alone time for me, finish up with a nice glass of Merlot and a hunk of sharp cheddar, early to bed with with my sweetie for some pillow talk and maybe a little Sig.

4. Do you have a hobby that you love?

Other than blogging? I love creating art, painting, design and photography. I love to cook, I love to give dinner parties. I love going to school – I look forward to getting back into school some day.

5. Tell us the best and the worst thing about being you.

Well, I’m just so darn pretty and smart that everyone hates me (snort). That covers both the best and the worst. Just kidding. Not everyone hates me. My mom sorta likes me. Sometimes.

6. What’s the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you? We want all the details.

Choose any post from this category – this one was a doozy and this one was bad too. One time Sean threw a fit in McDonalds and I carried him out under my arm, thrashing and wailing. When I got out to the parking lot, I discovered he had unsnapped my shirt and I had apparently flashed everyone in the drive-thru. My life is one long series of embarrassing events.

7. What blog related thing bugs you? Trolls, vile comment spam, meanies.

Personal stuff:

How old are you? 48
Married? Yes
Children? 1
If so, homeschool, private, or public? Private
Favorite season? Any season where I can wear sandals.
Favorite pass time? Right now, photography and writing.

Favorite color? I’m an artist, I can’t possibly pick just one. Tangerine is a happy color that I wear a lot.

Favorite movie? Wizard of Oz
Favorite song? Hard to pick just one. Who can pick just one?

Mac or PC? PC but I would love to have a Mac too.
Dog or Cat? I’m stupid crazy about dogs. I don’t have one now and that makes me very sad.
Salt or Pepper? Salt, definitely salt.

Vanilla or Chocolate? Vanilla ice cream, High quality dark chocolate uncontaminated with caramel, nuts, luscious nougat (whatever that is) or any other silliness.

Diet Coke, Sweet Tea or Evian? None of those. Unsweetened tea is good. I don’t eat or drink diet anything. Life is too short for that nonsense.

Steak, Chicken or Shrimp? Seafood is my favorite, but I’m not a picky eater, I’ll eat just about anything.

And now? I am officially sick of myself.

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I tag anyone who has never been tagged for a meme, is hard up for blog ideas or just wants to do it. Here are your marching orders:

1. Write about 5 specific ways blogging has affected you, either positively or negatively.
2. link back to the person who tagged you
3. link back to this parent post
4. tag a few friends or five, or none at all
5. post these rules— or just have fun breaking them

For the complete list of questions, or to see an example of how to do this meme properly, go visit Dawn. If you do the meme, come back here and leave a comment with a link so I can read all about you.