That was the first name I considered for this blog. It seems to describe my stage of life. I decided against it because I’m pretty sure the people at Spanx want in no way to be associated with me. They might even voice their objections, causing me to have to think of another name. So why not just avoid what might turn into a lawsuit? (Besides, I almost never wear Spanx, even though they do work a neat trick.)
So here I am, A Faded Ginger. That is true. My hair faded to nondescript not-quite-brown after I had my sons, which was over twenty years ago. Over twenty years ago. I had to repeat that so it could sink in. I am a mom, but not a mommyblogger. Not in the sense of talking about the antics of adorable children. No, my youngest, my only girl, is fourteen. My mantra is, “Nobody is at their best at fourteen.” Last year my mantra was, “Nobody is at their best at thirteen. My sons are in their twenties. Any stories I
might will share about them will be more about my ineptitude than their adorability.
Back to my hair. I am like someone who, because she was blonde as a child, thinks of herself as blonde for the rest of their life. Miss Clairol might help. I’m like that, but a redhead who does not dye her hair. Yet. The fact that employees at the DMV argue with me when I list my hair as red means nothing. The lighting is horrible in those places. I’m still a ginger, albeit a faded one.
I am trying not to fade away in other aspects of my life, though. I’m trying to embrace this new stage of my life, and enjoy it as much as I did the last. I don’t find myself all that interesting, but I hope you do. I hope that someone, somewhere, reads this and thinks, “See! It’s not just me!” That is why I’m writing – to you, for me – about being middle aged, full of faults, and happy.