Errrrr…..can we talk about this aging thing just for a minute?
This is not a woe-is-me post. I’m proud to be 45. My 40s have, so far, been good to me. I’m in kick-ass shape and have better cardio capability than I did in my 20s. There is a freedom in 40 that I didn’t have in my younger years. A what-the-hell-I-might-as-well-try-who-cares-if-I-look-stupid attitude that makes life more fun.
But there are also things people never told me about getting older. Things that are quite shocking to say the least.
I think I covered the whole grey pubic hair thing which, while not fun isn’t an “Ermahgerd” situation because it's not like anyone is going to see it besides my husband, my doctor, or my kids when they barge in on me in the bathroom to show me the Minecraft city they built. And we all know about the wrinkles and acne at the same time because menopause is SO MUCH FUN but there seems to be other things going on.
Like the lines embedded in my chest when I wake up each morning. The ones caused by sleeping on my side and my boobs doing the gravitational reach towards the floor. The triangular creases in my chest that don’t go away for hours and seem to be staying longer and longer each day no matter how much cream I slather on them.
Or the grey hairs I found in my eyebrows but can’t pluck because my eyebrows are getting thinner. Yet while my eyebrows are disappearing, I’m growing more hair on my toes.
My grey roots are not only winning the war, they marched down to my armpits to build up the army.
The glasses I wear to to watch television are not new but the lines formed on my forehead from peering over top those glasses so I can read are.
My knees crack and my spine pops. The day I start snapping I've basically become a rice crispie cereal.
The hair in my nose seems to want to form a relationship with the hair now growing on my upper lip.
And then there is the one long wirey hair on my newly grown momstache that appears out of nowhere every two weeks and needs to be plucked. I guess I should be grateful it doesn’t come with a wart.
And last but not least, the one that is most painful for me in this whole aging process is the carbo-bloating. I used to be able to chomp the chips, pile back the popcorn, and consume carbs with abandon. But now?
Now I need elasticized buffet pants to accommodate the bloating that occurs afterwards. I don’t even have a dog to blame on the aftermath.
Can we all talk about this? Because I can’t possibly be the only one this is happening to, right?
Right?
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