For the most part I have enjoyed growing older. The older I get, the older "old" is. When I was a teen, 30 seemed old, 40 was decrepit, and 50... well, 50 was on the brink of death. Now that I'm in the fifth decade of my life, 75 seems "old."
Why 75? I have no idea, just a random number I pulled out of my middle-aged butt that's older than I am. Now when I hear of someone dying and they are within a decade or so of my age, I say, "Wow! They died so young!!"
It's funny all the things that come with middle age, some I never even imagined.
Why is it that we spend a fortune on all things hair-related? We're so indecisive about what to do. "Should I go for the Nice 'n Easy way to cover my grays, or should I do a ultra-complicated highlight/lowlight job so my grays blend in seamlessly with my new shade?"
We buy all the volumizing products on the shelf to make our thinning hair appear more voluptuous, yet spend a small fortune to tweeze, wax, or thread all that hair that's cropped up in weird places... what is with that ONE super sharp whisker on my chin??? How long has it been there?
While we're talking about faces, let's talk about skincare. Why on Earth do I have to shop for anti-wrinkle creams and serums, PLUS acne products?
I remember standing in the make-up section recently, eyeballing some stuff for "mature" skin. You know, the stuff that doesn't "settle in" to all your creases and crevices, revealing your age. I overheard two 20-somethings discussing skin care.
One said, "Ewww! This one says 'plumps crepey skin'! Gross!! Who wants CREEPY skin???" I suppressed my laughter and moved on so I wouldn't embarrass anyone.
That's another thing I didn't used to have to worry about... laughing. Gone are the days of carefree cackling.
Luckily for me, there is an ever-expanding market for incontinence products, something for nearly every gal out there. Your choices range from "I don't pee my pants" denial pads to "Who am I kidding?" adult diapers. These are the last stance, "Go BIG or Go Home" option for some.
If you're clinging to your pride and buying those pads when you really need diapers, a "Go BIG!" laugh might turn into a "Go HOME!!" situation.
I'm guessing I'm not the only one who is thankful someone invented Pull-Ups when my sons were little. They've had 30 years to perfect the grown-up version, complete with patterns and pretty colors to entice you to buy them.
They still haven't been able to fix the crinkly paper sound they make when you move though. Oh well, I guess my crepey eyes will match my crepe paper panties.
I think having a good sense of humor makes growing older easier. And now I don't have to worry about laughing because "I'm a big kid now!"
Just a tenderhearted, quirky girl trying to spread some love, laughter, and food for thought in a world that desperately needs them.