Well, I won’t say which of my loving children started this conversation with (or at) me but suffice it to say, they all eventually joined in. Look – flab is a natural part of getting old(er). Like burping, farting, sagging, forgetting, farting while you’re sleeping (Oh my, I digress) – it’s the joy of living in our bodies. But, this getting old(er) thing — this flab thing, I’ve decided I’m going to embrace it rather than fight it (ok, I do try to lift weights, but it’s clearly not working!).
There are a few things, however, that are a bit more frustrating as I (we) get old(er):
Sleeping: For as long as I can remember, I had to get up early for one thing or another – kids, work, husband, work, kids, (you get the picture). Now, when I have the chance to sleep in a bit, my body essentially says, “F*** you. I’m not letting you sleep in any more!” In fact, not only am I not sleeping late, but I’m able to wake up in the middle of the night and check out the moon (through the bathroom window). No justice here!
Forgetting: This week I forgot my briefcase at home, a coffee date (in my defense, we hadn’t totally “firmed” it up), the names of about 10,000 people (all of whom I’ve known forever) and where I parked my car (twice). I really have nothing to say about this!
Nails: What’s the deal with nails and getting older? Our toe nails get harder and thicker and more difficult to clip, while our finger nails just get thinner. Where’s the fairness in that plan?
Skin: I’ve been told I have very soft skin. And, that may be true. But when I look at my hands, I see a billion veins sticking out and if I squint ever so slightly, I can see my mom’s hands. When the freak did that happen?
People look 12: Why is it that everyone looks way younger than me? Seriously. The judges used to be older than me … not any more. All my doctor’s are retiring and I’ve got to get all the younger people looking over my sagging parts. Even my handyman is now younger than me. What’s happening?
Look friends. I’m going to embrace my aging body. I love not having to worry about how I look all the time (what you see is what you get). I don’t feel embarrassed talking with my hands – I’m Italian after all! I totally enjoy the slight wrinkles near my eyes. I love being able to say, “Been there. Done that.” And, finally – it’s now ok for me to cry at any time and just pawn it off to menopause. So, my loving kids – I’m going to shake my flab anytime I can (or maybe, while I can!). And I’m going to enjoy it!
Have a great weekend everyone!