And so it begins...

I've never been someone who has hangups about birthdays.  For some reason, the numbers don't seem all that important as they go up.  I fully expect that one day that will change, and I'll freak out about an upcoming birthday and leave town so no one can rib me about it (by leaving town I mean go on a cruise).  But so far, I've not dreaded any upcoming birthdays.

In fact, I couldn't wait to turn 30.  When I hit 30, I was still a single working girl, with long, big, bright blond hair, an unfortunately deep tan and a tad too much enthusiasm for happy hour, to put it politely.  I'd spent my 20s in a male-dominated work environment, and it seemed people constantly patronized me with statements about how "girls" my age didn't know anything.  I truly felt that turning 30 would magically cause the world to take me seriously.  It didn't, but I wasn't worried about my biological clock or wrinkles or a mortgage or any of those issues that preoccupied my 30ish friends.  I just had a big party and moved on.


By the time the next decade rolled around, I was married with two children, living 900 miles from home.  POOF!  In 3,650 days, quite a bit changed.  But I didn't dread turning 40 either.  Somehow, that number just seemed like a good place for someone like me to be.  And Eric gave me a surprise party that accounted for my first understanding of why Depends are so popular - I was extremely surprised!  But again, another party, some food and drinks and the company of great friends, and I moved forward without too much concern about getting old.

As I approach the half-century mark, I know I'm supposed to get all philosophical about aging and the value of youth in our culture, and the appalling idea that a young person like me could get mail from AARP, and many other weighty subjects that mature people enjoy cogitating upon.   But none of those matters resonate with me at this time.  My age wasn't really on my mind until yesterday, when I was fitted for my first pair of bifocals.  All of a sudden I'm feeling old!

I wore glasses for most of my life, until my adoring husband suggested I have lasik surgery back in '01 when he got a bonus for a patent he filed or something like that.  I have loved life without glasses dependency these last 10 years, but I have to say I kind of like my new specs.  I'd only started needing reading glasses in the last year or so, mostly late at night when my eyes were tired, but suddenly, in the last few months, my magnification need went from +1.25 to +2.75.  Whooooosh!  This aging stuff happens fast when it happens.

So I like my new glasses, but part of me is mourning the fact that I need them at all.  If signs of aging continue to surprise me in this furtive and speedy manner, it seems only a matter of time  before I'll need to stock up on Depends, denture adhesive, Miss Clairol, ExLax and prunes.  I'd better start a list...

Meanwhile, I'd better party while I still remember how.  Thankfully, my little pumpkin friend helps keep me feeling young:

 

Have a great weekend~