Friday, July 3, 2015

Squinting At Fifty

In just over a month I turn fifty. Freakin' fifty! The big FIVE OH my hell, how did this happen?

I stressed a lot about twenty-nine.  For my entire twenty-eighth year I just couldn't bear the thought of twenty-nine. During routine household chores it would creep up behind me, blow its clammy breath against the back of my mind, until, just as I became aware of it there, "BOO!"

I anguished.  I hadn't really lived. I was an old married lady. I was a stay at home Mom with two little boys, they would be little forever AND I needed to decide if I was having more babies because twenty-nine was soooooo old.

Then suddenly I was twenty-nine and ridiculously morning-noon-and-evening sick with my third son. I hardly noticed as thirty came and went, then thirty-one and a lot of numbers in between passed by in a whirl of four more pregnancies, parks, and swimming pools, homework and job changes, moves, and trick-or-treating and Ground Hogs days, first days of school and last weeks of school, football games and choir concerts, baseball and orchestra, a foster kid, and five graduations, more job changes and hikes, and vacations, and crisis and emotions and laughter and, this year, a wedding...  Twenty-nine?  Pffffff, what do numbers mean after all?

Yesterday I went in with Adorable Hubby, #1, #4, and #7 for a MUCH needed eye exam just sure I'd come out with a prescription for, and I whisper this, bi-focals.  Praise Plutarch!  I only needed a bit stronger lenses.   I walked out of that exam room with dilated eyes and a youthful spring in my step, I felt twenty-nine again. Winky face.

But, I am I blind, nauseated and grumpy with my eyes dilated. Helping five people pick frames, realizing I had forgotten my medical card, going home to get it and coming back to pick out my frames and fit new glasses with a hungry eighteen year old, a nervous ten year old, a husband on a conference call and 100+ degree heat reminded me again that I'm nearly FIFTY.

FIFTY! I groaned as I leaned in too close to the mirror to actually see if the frames looked age appropriate while still looking twenty-nine something.

Soon #4 and #7 were fitted in their new glasses and helping me pick out frames.  Try these, no.  Try these, hmmm, no.  Try these, these, these...  finally I put on a pair that #4 really liked.  "What, these make me look like a crazy old lady," I said, squinting at myself in the mirror.

"Mom, YOU ARE a crazy, old lady!"

"Hmpfff, let me tell you, Sonny, I'm only turning fifty and fifty's not THAT old!"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

We are both 25 in my book. Youthful hikers, youthful beautiful young women! We will ALWAYS be young as long as we keep hitting the trails!

MBLL....... miss you!

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