It's My Birthday....Well, La De Fricking Da.
Well, I might as well face it. I'm aging. I haven't been inspired enough to complete a post I'm working on about my hatred of crow's feet. (but seriously guys, I hate them with a passion.) And don't get me started on what gravity is doing to parts of me. Ugh. I will be 33 years old in three days. THREE days. And I'm torn between being happy I've lived this long, and dreading being another year older.
Some of my readers may be pissed right now, thinking, Boo hoo. I'd kill to be 33 again.
Some of my readers may be petrified at the prospect of leaving their still youthful 20s or teens. Good God she's old....
But whichever group you're in, I have feelings on age you can probably relate to.
First, I don't feel 33. To me, 33 is a very "grown up" age, full of grown up responsibilities. And I don't feel grown up yet. I think mentally and maturity-wise, I'm probably 19 or 20 years old.
However, polar opposite of that is how I feel physically most days. I'd say in that area, I'm in my upper 40s-mid 50s. For example, I am totally useless on a Friday night. After a full week of work, I cannot stay awake past 9:00 pm on a Friday anymore. We had to cancel our Netflix membership because we couldn't finish a movie to save our souls. I'd be fast asleep before a rental would be half through. And on work nights, it's not much better. I haven't seen a late show or SNL in years.
I'm starting to choose comfy flats over the gorgeous, fashionable high heels that I so love.
I'm wishing I could bite the bullet and actually buy and wear elastic-band "granny" pants instead of cute low-rise jeans.
Undergarments are no longer about cuteness and being sexy, but about comfort and holding things in and up.
I enthusiastically and thoughtfully browse facial cleansers and creamers and antiwrinkle products in stores.
Instead of going every 8-9 weeks to get my hair colored to hide those grays, I'm having to go every 6 or so. Those suckers aren't even gray, they're bright ass white!
Emotionally, most days I'm probably 16. I have mood swings you wouldn't believe. Ask the Hubby. I also have that grudge-holding issue I'm so good at. My heart gets broken too easily by people. I like gossip. I seek approval of peers when I should be beyond that crap in life. I worry about what I look like and my hair and what I'm wearing. It's hard being a girl at any age, I tell you.
The Hubby insists on buying me a birthday cake and filling it with candles and singing to me every year. That stuff is cute when you're 5, but not when you're old enough to have more candles than actual cake.
On a happier note, cuz I've been quite pessimistic this post, being this age has its benefits.
I'm still carded when I order a margarita or other drink out in public.
I don't need regular mammograms or colonoscopies.
I'm not on the doorstep of menopause.
I don't need one of those pill holders/organizers for every day of the week.
I have two amazing daughters who are the LOVES of my life. My oldest, Bossy Girl, was a happy surprise when I was 25 years old. I'd always, always wanted a daughter, and she is perfect in my mind. She opened my eyes to the magic and blessing that is motherhood. What an honor. My youngest, Wee One, was hoped for and prayed for and longed for and carefully planned due to medical reasons. I am in awe of her and the joy she's brought to my life. I didn't have these miracle girls when I was 23, so 33 is definitely good in that area. I hope as I age, and they age, we stay close and they can come to me for anything.
Being another year older is also another year spent with my best friend, the Hubby. We met when we were 17 and married when we were 23 and out of college. How lucky am I to have met my match at such a young age. He doesn't even see my gray hairs or crow's feet.
One of my best childhood friends passed away tragically when we were only ten years old. I'm thinking wherever he is, he'd give anything to be here and be turning 33 with me.....
So, bring it on, birthday. I guess I can take it.
Some of my readers may be pissed right now, thinking, Boo hoo. I'd kill to be 33 again.
Some of my readers may be petrified at the prospect of leaving their still youthful 20s or teens. Good God she's old....
But whichever group you're in, I have feelings on age you can probably relate to.
First, I don't feel 33. To me, 33 is a very "grown up" age, full of grown up responsibilities. And I don't feel grown up yet. I think mentally and maturity-wise, I'm probably 19 or 20 years old.
However, polar opposite of that is how I feel physically most days. I'd say in that area, I'm in my upper 40s-mid 50s. For example, I am totally useless on a Friday night. After a full week of work, I cannot stay awake past 9:00 pm on a Friday anymore. We had to cancel our Netflix membership because we couldn't finish a movie to save our souls. I'd be fast asleep before a rental would be half through. And on work nights, it's not much better. I haven't seen a late show or SNL in years.
I'm starting to choose comfy flats over the gorgeous, fashionable high heels that I so love.
I'm wishing I could bite the bullet and actually buy and wear elastic-band "granny" pants instead of cute low-rise jeans.
Undergarments are no longer about cuteness and being sexy, but about comfort and holding things in and up.
I enthusiastically and thoughtfully browse facial cleansers and creamers and antiwrinkle products in stores.
Instead of going every 8-9 weeks to get my hair colored to hide those grays, I'm having to go every 6 or so. Those suckers aren't even gray, they're bright ass white!
Emotionally, most days I'm probably 16. I have mood swings you wouldn't believe. Ask the Hubby. I also have that grudge-holding issue I'm so good at. My heart gets broken too easily by people. I like gossip. I seek approval of peers when I should be beyond that crap in life. I worry about what I look like and my hair and what I'm wearing. It's hard being a girl at any age, I tell you.
The Hubby insists on buying me a birthday cake and filling it with candles and singing to me every year. That stuff is cute when you're 5, but not when you're old enough to have more candles than actual cake.
On a happier note, cuz I've been quite pessimistic this post, being this age has its benefits.
I'm still carded when I order a margarita or other drink out in public.
I don't need regular mammograms or colonoscopies.
I'm not on the doorstep of menopause.
I don't need one of those pill holders/organizers for every day of the week.
I have two amazing daughters who are the LOVES of my life. My oldest, Bossy Girl, was a happy surprise when I was 25 years old. I'd always, always wanted a daughter, and she is perfect in my mind. She opened my eyes to the magic and blessing that is motherhood. What an honor. My youngest, Wee One, was hoped for and prayed for and longed for and carefully planned due to medical reasons. I am in awe of her and the joy she's brought to my life. I didn't have these miracle girls when I was 23, so 33 is definitely good in that area. I hope as I age, and they age, we stay close and they can come to me for anything.
Being another year older is also another year spent with my best friend, the Hubby. We met when we were 17 and married when we were 23 and out of college. How lucky am I to have met my match at such a young age. He doesn't even see my gray hairs or crow's feet.
One of my best childhood friends passed away tragically when we were only ten years old. I'm thinking wherever he is, he'd give anything to be here and be turning 33 with me.....
So, bring it on, birthday. I guess I can take it.
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1 Comment:
Great attitude Mizz Clumpalicious! Just wait till you're as old as me.....uh...eh...headed for sixty and still have the mind of a 20 year old. It sure is tough being a young gal in this body. Dare I say......turkey neck and elephant knees?!?!?
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