Holy Crap, I'm Getting Old(er)

Yep, you read that right.  I'm getting older.  Every day, older and older.  It doesn't take a genius to figure this out.  As I sit here, I can't help but think about the things that I only wish some of my older, yet wiser, friends would have told me would happen to me in my 30's as I edge closer and closer to 40.


1.  Hair.  Oh Lord, the hair.  I am not referring to the hair on the top of my head.  I am fortunate to have been blessed with lovely locks there, despite the fact it is turning all sorts of gray (a big thanks to genetics, the littles, and Farmer Bob for this) and at times seems to be falling out by the handful.  At least that can be colored and I have plenty to spare.  It is the hair everywhere else that is disturbing.   Why, if I am a female, does mother nature find it entertaining to make me feel like a Sasquatch?  There are many days in which I feel like if I don't have a pair of tweezers in my hand, constantly plucking those pesky black hairs, they may capture me and stick me in the monkey house at the zoo.


Yep, there is this.


2.  Pimples.  Really?  Just when I thought I had been tortured enough by these as a teenager, I find myself waking up with nothing short of a Mount St. Helens on some part of my face at least once a month.  And as if that is not bad enough, it usually invites a friend or two.  Mix in a few black hairs, I feel like Nanny McPhee, minus the bird.





3.  The hormonal swings.  One minute it's all this, sweet, loving, mom of the year:


I love you lovely little midgets.



And in a heartbeat, one little thing happens and it turns to this:




It could be something as minute as leaving a hair rubber band on the table, or a dirty sock by the back door.  If it hits me at the right moment, watch out, a rampage is a comin.  I hate it. I try not to use that word much, hate is such a strong word, but I truly HATE it.  I hate that no matter how hard I try, I just can't control it.  There is no amount of deep breaths, or counting to 10 that can prevent it.  It is horrible and I always feel so guilty afterwards. 


4.  The increased aches and pains.  I like to think I am a somewhat in shape person. I chase 5 kids around, I don't sit on the couch all day eating bon-bons and sitting on Facebook (contrary to popular belief).  I run, OK, lately it's more of a non occurence, but I hope to get back on the wagon soon.  Yesterday I woke up with a screaming hamstring and I suffered an arm injury folding the damn laundry.  Yep, folding the damn laundry.  My back is in a constant state of confusion.  One day it feels pretty good, the next day I'm stuck on the couch with a heating pad unable to move.  Poor PITA, who still sleeps in his crib out of my sheer laziness, 5 out 7 days becomes a skydiver without a parachute as I so gently "drop" his 32 pound self into his bed for his nap.  It is not out of anger, it is because I can't bend over to sweetly snuggle him into his bed.  This makes me both sad and more determined to get him out of that bed!  Good thing he finds it funny.  I find it painful.


I hope he's wearing his parachute!


5.  Last, but not least, Aunt Flow.  Ladies, it happens to all of us, but is it just me or as we get older this wench becomes more and more evil?  When we are younger she is so nice to us, minus the debilitating cramps.  Was this her valiant attempt to get us to like her while we are young? It's not like we have a choice in the matter.  This lovely visitor is coming whether we want her to or not.  In my child bearing years, yes I know that technically these years are not over, but for me they have officially come to an end, I would have rather been pregnant than to deal with the Aunt that no one wants to invite over.    I guess this explains the 5 kids in 8 years.  Now that those days have come to an end (no tears here), Aunt Flow has become the most unpredictable bitch in this house, even more so than my mood swings.  I never know when she's gonna show up and what kind of mood she's gonna be in. Is she going to be nice and polite? No cramps, no violent mood swings, no total draining of my blood supply?  Or do I get the pissy version? Cramps for a week ahead of time, the constant urge to stab someone with a fork, and suffering from such a drastic blood loss that all I want to do is sleep?  It is such a crap shoot these days.  I am a firm believer that this is her way to help us embrace menopause.  That has GOT to better than this.  Right?


Anywho, I can only hope that with this I can only prepare those of you who are either just entering your 30's or are getting close.  I can only hope that my friends that are entering their 40's will give me more warning as to what to expect once I enter that decade.  Don't get me wrong, 40 doesn't scare me.  I have a couple more years until I get there, but I am only anticipating total awesomeness, and will accept nothing less.  For now I will keep cleaning out my shower drain, using the zit cream, praying for patience and hormonal balance, using my heating pad, and keeping my tweezers handy.


Have a FABULOUS day!


You Know it Happens at Your House Too


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