Back in January I bought a couple of Groupons. One for 18 weeks of boot camp (did I tell you that I’ve GAINED two pounds?) and one for sclerotherapy.

What’s that fellas and kids under 35? You don’t know what sclerotherapy is? Well, it’s when a doctor injects a solution into your blood vessels to eliminate spider veins.

Yes, that’s right. I bought a Groupon for cosmetic surgery and I’m telling you about it on my blog. Who loves self-deprecation? *Stands up* *Waves hand*

But, people, this is ME we’re talking about. I can’t just go in and use my Groupon for vein surgery without getting a pre-operative ultrasound that shows I have honest-to-goodness venous insufficiency. That’s a fancy way of saying my blood pumps the wrong way.

Left untreated, the burning pain I feel in my legs (that I always assumed was nerve pain) would get worse and I would likely end up with some bulging, varicose veins…which would really kind of put a damper on swim suit season.

So before I can have the sclerotherapy, I have to get vein ablations in both legs. Today I go in for my left leg and next week, my right.

Clearly, you can see the good in this situation right? No? Well, let me tell you!

I am preemptively striking against bulging veins (good), the pain and burning in my legs will improve (good), then I can have sclerotherapy to get rid of the spider veins I’ve had since high school (good) and I’m pretty sure they’re going to give me Morphine (better).

The downside? A week of wearing a thigh-high compression stocking in 90 degree heat.

So, while I’m lying in front of a fan and sleeping off some medicine you should head over to my post about Gatorade Moms where BlogHer is giving one of my readers a $100.00 gift card to Dick’s Sporting Goods!

If you win, could you pick me up some cute compression capris?

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1. You may begin your Memorial Day weekend with fond remembrance, thanks for our military and high hopes for three beautiful days with your family.

2. But, then you will pick up your kids after school on Friday, go to the grocery store and end up yelling at them in the middle of the frozen foods aisle because they are bickering over a shopping cart.

3. And, you’re only 10 minutes in to the weekend.

4. On Saturday, the weeks of rain may give way to sunshine and warmer weather. Sweltering, even.

5. Which leads the mosquitoes to say, “Mmm…LUNCH!”

6. Which is what your dog might say when she finds a dead rabbit in the park.

7. And a dead squirrel in the road.

8. Then your son might use his face to stop a skateboard.

9. But, gigantic S’mores make it all better.

10. Until the neighbor’s dog wags her huge tail right into your son’s marshmallow.

11.  To finish your weekend, you may attend a party at which you judge each others alcoholic drinks. Lots of alcoholic drinks.

12. Then you realize that you’re a schmuck when it comes to throwing parties because the hostess serves more hamburger toppings than you make for a whole meal.

13. And, the next day…after all of those drinks…seeing a picture of sauerkraut and sauteed mushrooms is enough to make you never want a burger again.

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Fifteen years ago, I had a mid-life crisis at the ripe old age of 24.  I had just got engaged and I had a great job, and dudes, I drove a Ford Taurus.  Things should have been rosy.

The crisis came just two weeks after my engagement when I turned 25.  I hated turning 25.  Something about turning a quarter of a century made me feel as if I couldn’t act like a kid anymore.

But you know what?  I found that wasn’t the case at all.  I still ride roller coasters, I am trying to get my co-workers to join me in the creation of a skipping club and yesterday I wore my hair in pigtails.  Okay, it was just because my daughter said I was too old to wear pigtails and I live to embarrass her…but, still, I totally wore them.

If I had known then what I know now I would have embraced 25.  Shoot, I would have made out with 25.  And, like a friend of mine always says, had I known what would happen to my body I would have walked around in a bikini everywhere I went.

Next week I turn 40 and I’ve been feeling another mid-life crisis coming on.  Only this is a real mid-life crisis, because now I’m actually mid-life.  That’s mid-life, if I’m lucky. This crisis isn’t about whether I can act like a kid, but about the fact that 15 years ago I was turning 25 and that 15 years from now I will be turning 55.  FIFTY-FIVE.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  You know…if YOU are 55.

I really shouldn’t mind because my life is in a great place right now.  Three days before my 40th birthday, I start working full-time at a job I love.  Some people can’t say that their entire lives and I’m only halfway through mine.  Remember, that’s if I’m lucky.

My health is good.  If you don’t count insomnia and 40 extra pounds.  Really.  Don’t count it.

I have a great family, live in a good neighborhood, have two sweet dogs, have fantastic friends and am part of amazing communities at the kids’ school and our church.  I am blessed.

But turning 40 really stinks and I’m going to whine about it until I’m blue in the face.

Because, clearly, age and maturity are two very different things.

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Some of the most embarrassing moments with my son have taken place at cash registers.  As if it isn’t bad enough to fork over $75 at Target when all you wanted was a roll of paper towels, try having your son tell the cashier that she looks like “kind of a girl” or that her big lips make her resemble a fish.

This would be why, a couple of weeks ago, my 12 year old daughter was a quick-thinker and pulled her little brother out of the grocery store line.  I had no idea what she was doing, until I stopped removing items from my cart, looked at the cashier and noticed he was wearing an eye patch.  Clearly, that guy was going to get called “a pirate”.

But, when we approached the register at the grocery store yesterday I didn’t see anything that might cause him to make a comment.  I was proactive and chose a cashier who was nice looking, clean and without blemishes.

And, of course, it backfired.

My son spied the young, blond-haired girl scanning our items and said, “Ohhhh, you’re pretty!”

She smiled as he gave her his shy look and smiled back.

Then his shy look disappeared and his expression became one of excitement as he looked over her shoulder, pointed to a different cashier and said, “Wait.  Actually, that girl over there is the pretty one!”

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