An Only Daughters Only Daughter...

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

39 and Counting

I turned 39 last month and I must say ICK!! But maybe not so much ick, really. Nothing is all that new or different. I don’t feel any older. I don’t look any different. (The 10 lbs I gained over the holidays hasn’t show up yet.) But then there is the ick. The ick of knowing that in less than 365 days I’ll be 40 and OMG that scares me.

40 is middle age. 40 is MY MOTHER (who will be 60 in a few months and OMG again, how did that happen?). At 40 you have no excuses left to do stupid things. At 40 you are suppose to be a grown-up. At 40 tattoos look tacky, bikini’s are an “ahem, you really shouldn’t” and you know you should think about getting rid of the ponytail.

Also, please wear jeans that don’t show your ass crack and wear panties that are not IN your ass crack. (Okay, this little tip is thrown in there for women of any age). But I don’t want to see your purple thong up your 40 year old ass when you bend down to pick up the water bottle, the cell phone and the ipod you just dropped because you can’t drink, talk and move it, move it all at the same time. Maybe it’s because you were distracted by the fact that you have a rope up your ass and it’s rubbed you raw and it’s left you incapable of thinking. Or maybe that just happens because you are 40. I digress.

At 40 you should be really involved in your kids’ mid-high to high school education or if you were having fun when you were a teen you could actually have a grandkid to be involved with. 40 is Friday nights at home having pizza and a movie with you hubby or S/O because the kids are out of the house. At 40 your nights shouldn’t include table dancing at Sky Bar.

All the above is right? Right??? Maybe not. Except the part about the jeans and your ass crack, I still don't want to see them and oh maybe just dont' get any new tattoos. Anyway. I don’t think today’s “40” is the same as my Mother’s “40” was 20 years ago. “40” twenty years ago was much older. People had settled down, raised their families and were starting to plan for their retirement. Women certainly didn’t look or act as young as they do now. They were much more accepting of middle age. Twenty years ago a 40 yr. old man was resigned to socks with his sandals sitting in his Laz-E- Boy and happy about it! We have come such a long way to where age is really not about the numbers. There is no set time frame on life like it used to be. You can be standing in line next to a women holding a baby and it could be her kid or her grandkid. You can't tell by looking and it doesn’t even matter anymore. Age is what we make of it.

I think it’s the arthritis flaring up in my left hand pointer finger that got me started on this. That and I got a Carol Adams survey in my e-mail today for the “39 year old female” and at first I was like who the hell is that and then it hit me. I am the 39 year old female.

Well I guess I have 332 days to think about it.