Friday, 10 July 2009

What? Me, aging?

Apparently this aging thing is happening. And it's going to continue to happen. Which I guess is better than the alternative of being dead.

I am now officially tipping the teeter-totter closer to 40 than 30. Hell, I'm closer to 50 than 20! WTF?! How did THAT happen? It honestly never really actually crossed my mind that I would ever age.

In fact, I'm still surprised at the person looking back at me in the mirror. I still feel like the thin(ish) person I was back in high school/college. OK, the beginning of college, before Harvey arrived, with his poutine. Oh Harvey. What a love affair we had that last year of college. I didn't put on the freshman 15, I put on the senior 17. It hasn't gone away. I went down a bit when I distanced myself from Mr. Poutine. Not by much.

10 years later, my pre-pregnancy weight was 123 lbs. When I had my first weigh-in for my second pregnancy I was 123 lbs again. (I like to be consistent.) Not bad considering I really didn't try to get back down to my former (30 year old) self. 2 years post-partum from 2nd baby, though... Still in the 130s... I am still completely shocked when I see my ass. My mind's self is so much thinner than my actual self!

OK, this became more about weight than aging... Back to aging. Well, keeping the weight down is a big change. I never had to worry about it before. Now I jiggle. And not in that tight, hot 20-something way. In that Homer-Simpson-stomach-fat-jiggle-test kinda way. Not sexy.

Grey hair. I have grey hair. And they're multiplying. When my hairdresser said, "This colour will cover up those grey hairs," I had no idea who she was speaking to. What? Me?

And what is with my body needing to tell me everything that's bothering it? We used to have a good relationship. Now it complains way too much and has to let me know EVERYTHING it is doing! I really don't need to know which side I'm ovulating from. Thanks for the mid-month cramping, though.

I crack, I crinkle. My knees sound like maracas. That will never go away. Permanent maracas. I can never sneak up or down stairs again. Especially down. Sounds gross.

Gravity is not my friend. Every part of me has given up trying to fight it. The boobs? Remember the pencil test? I think I could carry cobs of corn now. Two of them, to be precise. I used to be so perky. Freddie and Eddie were quite nice, thank you very much. Now they need a lot of coaxing and positioning and support. Can't forget support. Oh, and the ass? Actually the ass is migrating both south and north. Go figure.

Anyway, enough bitching and moaning. I have to save some for the seniors' home.

2 comments:

mom2peaches said...

omg you are so funny at 3am... well you have an excellent sense of humour the rest of the day too... the cobs of corn should be a good thing considering who you're married to... I have to agree with you though I have been preoccupied with this too (not on you on me) :P

mommy2monkeyNgobo said...

I think I made a couple people blush with this entry. Sorry, little brother :)

Post a Comment