Thirty six, treinta y seis, trente-six, trentasei... my birthday number for the year. I've officially graduated to the "box" that insinuates if you're 36 then you might as well be 40... Ya know, in questionnaires I've moved from the 20-25 girl years of spontaneous road trips, FINALLY legally buying alcohol and no worry times. In the 26-30 bracket, it was a less girl to more woman transformation- marriage, a real career, buying a home, having my first baby. Onward and ripping through 31-35, another wonderful baby then the girl in me disappeared and life turned quite serious. Major changes, significant losses. All woman, no girl and unrelenting pressure. Now to drop that bracket and check the 36-40 box, the "age" of my attitude adjustment.
I've always loved my birthday and never dreaded gaining a year, I look younger than my chronological age, or so I've heard. I've always been on the athletic side. "Ohh, that will change when you hit 30" I was told. Well, I had a baby at 30 and shrunk back to my "below average" weight. I had another baby, and again, went right back to my pre-baby weight without ever hitting the gym. God bless genetics. Now before you smack me, please note that the only guarantee in life is that things are constantly changing... well, and that you will die some day, but I digress. Peculiar things happened between my 35th and 36th year, and here are some nitpicking observations.
YEARS ago I saw a Golden Girl's episode where my fave, Blanche, said all women KNOW that missionary is the ONLY favorable position. When questioned, she suggested that her face still looked flawless in that position and is a sore sight when she's "on top." Last week, I leaned OVER a mirror on the counter to tweeze my brows and about fell over. Wowwy!! I had NO idea, my face could even LOOK like that. Cartoonishly scary. Go try it, seriously. I'll wait.......
Quietly over the last couple of years, I've put on about 15 pounds. I needed to gain a few and like it for the most part. I actually have a decent bosom, something that was nonexistent in the "stick years." Post-child nursing, I've learned the importance of "push-up" bras (not padded!) to get the girls back up where they belong. And I actually have a booty. None of the women in my family have a butt, literally. My family is FULL of flat-ass women, it's the trademark. I may get kicked out of the club for this. I kinda like my mirror reflection... but this is enough, NO MORE!
I recently started running. First, my right foot started hurting- no surprise- I've had foot surgery. Changed up the shoes and at it again. Now my knee is filled with a chronic ache... along with the foot. I had to add some jamming music in my ears to drown out my panting and gasping for air as I felt each step pound the pavement. It shocked me when I heard my breathing in the momentary silence between songs. I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called an ambulance as of yet.
For my bracket, there's no specific fashion division. You can either go too young and foolishly dress like a teenager or into the world of elastic waistbands, cardigans, and Dr. Scholls. Where does a 36-40 woman find age appropriate, and yet FUN clothing... and on a single mom's budget?!? My aunt gave the BEST advice a few years ago. She told me to show as much skin as I want NOW because there'll be a time that I'll want to cover it up. I never knew what she meant... but I'm getting the hint now. My skin is changing. I am developing laugh lines, frown lines, curious lines, fine lines. Sun/age spots are popping by to say hello.... admittedly, I did nothing to stave those off in my teens and twenties. I naturally have jet black hair and look better with a little sun. Without it and considering black is my favorite clothing color, I look like a gothic cult ringleader. So back to the clothing dilemma, no short-shorts here but fitted clothing not requiring an orange peel for removal are a go. Then heels for dressier nights out. I can't believe I used to fear heels. Wearing them makes me feel "pulled together" and grown up. I don't feel like such a child, my legs look killer long, and the posterior looks better. Still, heels make my running foot hurt... I may have to stop running....
Unladylike noises. Hey now! Stop thinking THAT way! I was talking about those ridiculous noises made when getting off the floor, squatting down to reach the bottom shelf at the grocery, picking your child up to put them in the car... uhhh or ughh sounding noises. I catch myself doing it all the time. Is there a timer in my uhhh brain I can shut off for a while to silence that??
Other random aging thoughts: I have to dye my hair. I have WHITE sprouts that MUST be concealed. As a bonus, once the color begins to fade, those white hairs tricked black actually reflect as little brown. Bam, instant highlights! As for makeup, I get LOST in the foundation department scrutinizing each bottle's guarantee for "age defying, pore concealing, line refining" tricks. After 10 grueling minutes, I make my purchase only to later find it was the wrong tint. Grrrr! How am I supposed to guess this by looking at a "swatch" on the shelf label?! Can you tell single mom budget prevails here too?!? And on that note, I purchased the generic Oil of Olay to save a buck only to cringe later. It read "Beauty Fluid"... Why in the sam hell would they call it fluid?!? Maybe it's my offbeat humor, but it sounds disgusting!! Works the same though, fyi.
I could fill this with changes (my hair's not as curly, nails are more brittle, fingers are bonier, etc) but it must stop somewhere! I only recently started noticing fashion, hair, makeup, and the like. Single woman-dom will do that. I don't run out and buy "must-haves" but I do notice. Thank goodness everything changes- the bad times, fashion boos, uneven haircuts (something I am experiencing right now). Being stagnant can be dangerous. People SHOULD change with age and (hopefully) new, insightful wisdom is along for the ride. Now I have another year to enjoy and more birthday candles to blow out. Keep the oxygen tank handy!
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