Through a variety of circumstance and fortune, I now find myself looking at a once more swollen body (and with a sense of finality in it that comforts me greatly!) and trying yet again all the little things we've always done to keep it together.

This despite the fact that I've always been very mindful of my looks. But, now, I find thatI don't really give a dman anymore. Sometime during the last year I stpped trying to really get my face right and figured if I was doing it in the car, I was doing it wrong anyway.

Somewhere along the way I realized that I was never going to get rid of my pouch short of a girdle.

But I did realize that gravity only hits me when I'm tired, and I don't get as tired as I once did. Maybe it's the exercising I started like a demon after my last one, which I'm missing a lot as I balloon out in bed trying not to think about the pair I'm handling this time (For the few that count, yes, this will make , um, seven or eight -- don't 'member and none of the others are still long enough for me to count) in between sneaking to the computer when my designated watchdog wanders or sleeps.

I'll not go gently into that old womanhood. I've got a family of wrinkles that I'll wear proudly, and stretchies are the price I pay for being way, way way too into the mommy thing.

I've always heard life begins at 40. Well, then about the time I get these outta diapers, I'll be starting mine. And heaven beware if anyone decides I'm too old for something other than me -- I've got skydiving lessons reserved for November.

As for the Old Crone Store, why, The reason I'm replying is a trip into my closet, which holds things I admit only in it's confines that I'm sure will find their way out again when I hit my 70's, and that's the secret itself -- those stores are our closets. The last time I bought a new dress was two years ago, and I had to make half my latest stuff (have you seen the ghastly stuff that's affordable for maternity now? It was better eight years ago!).

babbling, Sorry. Hear hear!

thou and I, my friend, can, in the most flunkey world, make, each of us, one non-flunkey, one hero, if we like: that will be two heroes to begin with. (Carlyle)