Getting Older

I know from the day you're born 'til the day you die you're getting older.

With babies it's adorable.

With toddlers it's rapid.

With adolescents it's awkward.

For teenagers it's not fast enough.

For 20 somethings it's a little too fast.

For 30 something it's ridiculously fast and a little painful.

I've yet to experience the beyond 30s, but my guess is that you stop counting the years even more than you do in your 30s.

I took a big bite of humble pie yesterday.

A fellow mom at pre-school pick up asked me if I might have been one of her little sister's elementary school teachers.

OUCH!

I'm examining the dark circles around my eyes (Jewish heritage or lack of sleep- I'm not certain the cause and have no idea how to remedy it) the fine wrinkles all around my face, and the couple handfuls of grey hairs sprouting around my head.

I guess I could see how she might possibly think I was that old.

But it sure is painful.

I know, at some point you're no longer the youngest.

And to those youngest, I must look middle aged.

Blah.

Blah blah blah.

I feel like Toad in Frog and Toad.

But getting older is a little liberating.

A little over a week ago I celebrated a sweet friend's birthday by going to the Olympus Spa for some delicious Korean food (including this), hot rooms, pool soaks and the most luxurious treatment I've ever had... a body scrub.

It was absolutely delightful.

As a teenager and 20 something I wouldn't have hesitated to strip naked and strut around in front of other people.

Now in my (gasp) later 30s I'm getting back to ok with the idea of being naked in front of others.

No, I'm not as sleek and firm as I was before babies.  My belly still looks like a deflated ball after growing 4 wonderful little humans in it for a total of  36 months (or 40 however you count that).

My backside looks like a road map with all the stretch marks from over indulging for those same 36 months.

And I just might fit in with the National Geographic bare chested women (thank God for supportive brassieres).

But it's also a record of how far I've come as a person.

And now my skin is baby smooth.  I want to go quarterly so I can keep myself pet-ably soft forever.

I may not be the youngest, but I'm still relatively young and I'm going to enjoy each age that I'm allowed to zip through.

And I am going to splurge every now and then so that I can let a stranger scrub the dead skin off 99.99% of my body. 

Sounds crazy. 

Sounds weird. 

Sounds uncomfortable. 

But it was absolutely delightful.

I highly recommend it!

Now, who wants to join me next time?