Well, OK, I'm really not 38 years old, although some people tell me that I look like I am.  And, well, I'm not a grandmother... yet.  But I will be this coming May.  I have a sister-in-law who was a grandmother at 38, does that count?  Anyway,  I was looking for a "hook" to woo readers.  And if you're reading now, it just might have worked.  I hope it will work because I have some musings that I would like to document, mostly, for my children and future grandchildren.  My children (Megan and Chip, 26, Doug, 24, and Bryan, 10) have had to endure my musings over the years as often as I can get them to listen or, at least, pretend to.

The subject that I would like to offer in my debut of  "A 38 Year Old Grandmother's Musings" is: don't judge a book by it's cover.  Not original, I know.  Like I mentioned above, I look young for my age.  I have always looked young for my age.  My 24 year old son has inherited the same genes (I tell him that someday he will see it as a blessing... he doesn't believe me).  As a result of a youthful appearance, there have been many times in my history where people have predetermined my capabilities based on their perception of my age.  When I was in 5th grade, I was mistaken for a kindergartner.  Can you imagine?  Such humiliation!  How can you not treat a kid like a kindergartner when they look like one?  I am making light of this now, but as those experiences marked moments of time in my life, they made an impact on how I perceived myself.  I allowed the perception of others to dictate, in part, who I became.  You see this all the time; whether it's the fat funny kid, or the cocky jock, or the ditsy blond cheerleader, or the nerd.  People make judgements without ever taking the time to see what's behind door #1, so to speak.

Let me offer a clarification before I go any further.  I understand that the notion of complaining about looking like I'm in my 30's as a 51 year old woman is like a decidedly thin woman complaining about gaining 15 pounds over the holidays (oops).  No one wants to hear my waaaa, waaaa, waaaing about such seemingly trivial "crosses".  Having said that, there is a lesson that can be learned here or, at least, refreshed.

My dilemma of not looking my age as a child and young woman does not compare to others experiences of being judged by appearances.  There are people who, by no choice of their own, have varying physical maladies that cause people to not "see" them but to see only their disfigurement or handicap.  How about when people are judged immediately simply by the color of their skin or ethnicity?  Others, by their own choice, have tattoos, piercings, interesting hair color(s) and/or style, clothes or lack thereof...  How often do we allow our minds to size people up in a matter of seconds based on external criteria and treat them accordingly?  Guilty as charged.  So sad that so many opportunities for meaningful human interaction, much less, relationship is lost because of our keen ability to size people up, accurately or not.

Grandmotherly Musing #1:  Don't judge a book by it's cover.  Read the synopsis on the back, dare to open it up and read the first paragraph, maybe the first chapter.  Heck, read the whole darn book... we'll all be better for it!