Just the other day someone said to me “You still look like you are in your thirties!” Hoky smokes, people! I thought I still looked twenty-something (29 at least!). I guess it was a compliment. I just may have just slammed right into middle age. Here are some recent clues I have started paying attention to.
* I have no idea what the fascination is with #hashtags. I just did that right…right?
* I can’t text worth a darn and I forget my phone all the time.
* I just started jogging.
* My Dr. finally started letting me get mammograms after begging him for a decade.
* My psychologist said “Consider your age…”
* I’m seeing the wisdom of being who I am because not one diet appeals to me.
* When I see a newborn I think “I’m way too old for that” instead of wishing I had one myself.
* Eighty-years-old seems a young age to die.
* Kids that are getting married aren’t actually kids but look like kids to me.
* I look at people my age and think “Whoa, they look old…they are how old?” unless it’s Gwyneth Paltrow, then I get motivated to jog.
* My kids can walk faster than I can jog
* Embarrassing my kids overrules the fact that I am actually embarrassing myself.
* My friends have grandchildren
* I am writing a blog about being middle-aged.
I pretty much love being in my forties. I plan to enjoy as many years as God gives me and I also plan on having a sense of humor through it all. Unless I get the mean type of dementia…which means I am still laughing because my kids will have to deal with me. Call it the Nasty Nineties.