The Nomad Mom Diary

I'm carrying around a LOT of baggage

Fifty Shades of Almost Forty

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fifty shades of almost forty“Well, well, well, look who’s getting old?”

The gray hair on my chin is mocking me. I try to pluck it and miss. It cackles. This is one of the fifty shades of almost forty. With the big day looming off in the not too distant future, I am coming to realize that forty does not look like what I thought it would. It looks worse. It marks my official start to middle age and the beginning of the long dark descent into decrepitude. I’d lie awake and cry in despair except that exhaustion and poor mental aptitude also made the list. I am almost forty and I cannot win without losing.

These are my fifty shades of almost forty:

  1. I have gray hairs.
  2. Including on my chin.
  3. They mock me.
  4. My only hope for plucking them lies in the use of a magnifying mirror and that vision is too scary to contemplate.
  5. I have bags on the bags under my eyes.
  6. They have been around so long that I have embraced them.
  7. I’ve even been known to use make-up to enhance them.
  8. I pretend that the look is supermodel-chic.
  9. Even though my expanding backside is more Kardashian than Klum.
  10. I’ve stopped trying to make my butt smaller and boobs firmer.
  11. Because I am closer to “Cougar” category than “MILF”
  12. And Dear Lord, I am not ready to be a Cougar.
  13. I watch the Saturday Night Live “Mom Jeans” skit and wonder why they don’t actually exist.
  14. Because I get frustrated when I have to pull my maternity yoga pants back up every five minutes.
  15. But not frustrated enough to stop wearing them.
  16. Despite having not been pregnant in years.
  17. I don’t care if my husband knows that I am still wearing them.
  18. I don’t care if my friends know that I am still wearing them.
  19. Hell, they are still wearing them.
  20. That is reason #1 why we are friends in the first place.
  21. Reasons #2 – Infinity why we are friends revolve around their willingness to drink wine at all hours.
  22. And while I am talking about wine, I’ve discovered that I do have a palette. And it does not like two buck chuck.
  23. But that’s okay because at almost forty, I finally make enough to be able to afford something slightly nicer.
  24. I’ve learned to wait to start drinking until after 5pm.
  25. Somewhere in the world…the longitude and latitude of that place heavily depends on how badly my kids are behaving.
  26. The kids have done a real number on my biological clock.
  27. Some days I am sure that I am still 25 and others I’m convinced I’m 112. I am never, ever almost 40.
  28. Speaking of the kids, did I mention that my boobs and belly will never be the same again?
  29. And by that, I mean that they will be worse than they were before. Yes, I said worse.
  30. But hey, that’s okay because I am almost 40 and NOT Sofia Vergara. No one at waterbabies cares how I look in a bikini.
  31. That doesn’t mean that I don’t wear a bikini. I’m almost 40, not dead. I’ll wear a bikini or tankini or a maybe even a wet suit. I’ll do whatever I want!
  32. I’m getting smart enough to recognize that some things make me happy and others don’t.
  33. And old enough to say “screw you” to anything that falls into the latter category.
  34. And savvy enough to know how to do that without pissing off anyone I didn’t mean to piss off.
  35. I really and truly “get” my mother now.
  36. I hear her words coming out of my mouth all the time, and I’m okay with that.
  37. When I was younger, I wanted to grow up and be just like my mom and her sassy friends. And lo and behold, I have done just that.
  38. Hmmm, maybe being almost forty isn’t so bad after all. I’m older and wiser.
  39. I’m not dead and buried.
  40. My biological clock has been put out to pasture.
  41. My social life has not. In fact, it seems stronger than ever.
  42. I’ve got amazing kids that are getting bigger and smarter and faster everyday.
  43. I’ve got a comfortable life.
  44. And a worn in, soft in all the right spots marriage.
  45. And pants that don’t limit the number of chocolate chip cookies I can eat.
  46. I know who I am.
  47. I know who I love and I know they love me back.
  48. And I know where my place is in this world.
  49. And it is a pretty darned good place to be.
  50. On second thought, screw the chin hair. Maybe almost 40 isn’t so bad after all.

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Comments

  1. This list is fabulous. I am nearly embracing my chin hair. I may even stop pretending it’s ‘blonde’.

    I so glad you persevered with the 50 list. And like Grey, we will be clamouring for more volumes.

    MOUAH

  2. Happy almost-fortieth. (You did get to “happy” in the end.) Hope when the day rolls around it’s those last things on the list which shout the loudest.

  5. Ha ha! I was sitting drinking coffee with friends and telling them that I’d asked my husband for chin-depilation cream for my 45th birthday. One of the women directed me to your post as a fellow chin-hair-obsessive. And I’m glad she did! Great post.

  6. I am having a serious fan moment here. I cannot believe that someone told you about my blog. That’s amazing – you MADE my day. I am now your biggest fan! Maybe someday we can meet up and compare chin hairs over wine.

  7. WELL SAID! Just have the one kid, but I have a gray eyebrow hair that looks like it belongs to a grandma. Why are gray hairs so relentless?

  9. I agree with most of these…except I’m not sure why you would wait to start drinking until after 5:00. That’s just crazy and I’m pretty sure it’s got to be contributing to your gray chin hair. I just know it.

  10. I would like to put a place holder on the following thought… when you run your saggy boobs and deeply creased forehead into the wall that is “almost 50” you will look back at this post (once you have put on glasses) and guffaw… out loud.
    Then you will have to go change your underpants… because pee.

  11. Awesome! I got an e-mail pitch saying how such-and-such advertising would be a great fit for my blog “The Nomad Mom Diary.” I was like “whaaa?” And here you are! 🙂

    You’re funny and I like you.

  14. I live in Vegas. There is no waiting until 5 p.m. to start drinking. If that bottle of wine is beckoning then I’ll be drinking it even if the clock reads 1:24 p.m.

    I’m a few months past my 34th birthday and already plucking random hairs, living in my sweats when I don’t have to go to class and I’m slowly accepting the fact that my boobs are no longer perky and haven’t been in years. *sigh*

    On the bright side, I’m no longer as neurotic as 20-something girls who look at older women and freak out about aging. It happens to all of us and it’s much easier and more fun to laugh than lose my crap over the inevitable.

  15. I have been a fan of yours for a while, but feel a particular kinship with this piece now that I am officially in my 50’s. The good news? Not much changes as you slam headfirst into 50 except 1) your eyes will not work anymore so you will have 100 pairs of cheaters. Which is fine as long as you don’t buy a beaded chain to wear around your neck to hold them 2) the hairs will not only mock you but they will form a union so you can never really get rid of them no matter how errant they are and 3) the kids and wine are the only thing that make it all bearable but the appreciation of both will never happen simultaneously. Early mornings with kids make you wish you didn’t drink but you drink more because you have them. The Rubik’s cube of parenting.