Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Booyah to Aging
A week or so back I was waiting in the car with the girls while Eric ran into a store to grab something. I flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror, trying to fish a stray eyelash from my eyeball. I performed the lashectomy and was just about to flip the visor back up when it happened; I spotted some lines...not exactly wrinkles yet, but something like a rustic trail that will eventually be developed into a roadway. I guess I should have noticed sooner, but I don't really make much time for mirror gazing or close facial inspection. My total mirror time in a given day is less than 10 minutes, face washing, makeup, tooth-brushing in front of the gentle bathroom lights. There, in the harsh light of day, I was faced with the truth. I am aging.
I still occasionally get carded when I buy a bottle of wine or a can of spray paint, but it's no longer something I roll my eyes at as I think, "Come one, I definitely look 21 by now." Instead I have become one of those women who giggle a bit and occasionally act delighted when I am carded. Ugh, when did that happen?
I am still pretty young by most interpretations (not according to my 19 year old brother who claims that 25 is the prime of life, ha ha--how little he knows), but for the first time I am finding that it's not so easy to just say, "I am young," as a reckless blanket statement that acts as an explanation for any dumb thing that I do.
I know this shouldn't come as a surprise to me. I have two children, a mortgage, students loans , life experiences and all of that jazz...but I am still surprised. Perhaps it is because I went to school until just last August; college students aren't old...right? Wait, now if and when I go back to school for my PhD I will fall into the non-traditional student category (you know the type, endlessly sharing real life experiences that are only loosely connected to the topic at hand)....oh no, it's almost too much to bear.
When I spotted those first hints that I am not going to be young forever I will admit that I had flashes of greasy lotions and rubbing the equivalent to sandpaper on my face as I tried to force the process to stop. Then I reminded myself that I don't have any interest in staying young forever. I took one more look at those almost wrinkles and I was so very pleased because those lines are all smile lines! I hope that as these lines make their permanent home on my face that they dig deep trenches as a reminder of the years of smiles and laughter that have created them. So, booyah to getting older and not caring!