I usually don't feel old, and I truly believe 'old' is a state of mind regardless of wrinkles, sagging, etc. I'm certainly not in my 20's anymore, I've got three kids, and according to commercials, I'm too old to donate my eggs. Whatever. It still doesn't make me feel old.
The other day, however, I had my annual lady doctor appointment, and everything is fine, but she handed me a pamphlet for a procedure to nearly eliminate my monthly cycle, but you have to be done having kids, which I totally am. I shoved the pamphlet in my purse and didn't look at it until later.
When I pulled the pamphlet out later to read it, I was stuck on the picture on the front. I have obviously gotten older, and this was the first time I actually felt like I have gotten older. Apparently I will no longer be receiving pamphlets with young, bikini-clad women frolicking happily hand in hand with a handsome young beau who is obviously her fiance or new husband. They appear young, thin, well-rested, wrinkle free and excited about starting their life together. Nope. Those days are apparently gone for me. I will now get the pamphlet with an older looking, mellow woman sitting solo on a beach with a one-piece suit and long sleeve cover-up, smiling happily as she looks out to the ocean. Her sandals and book are neatly resting next to her, and while her hair isn't gray yet, her skin has obviously seen many summers of beach-going and yard work. Where her husband is remains a mystery but maybe he doesn't like the beach any more since their knees are obviously too old to be frolicking around like young children. Sigh. Again, I don't feel old, but obviously if you are done having children, you must have crossed over to looking contemplative and serene with a few fine lines gracing your face. At least that's what the medical community must think.
I stared at this for awhile and joked with my husband at my new stage in life, and made a mental note to go out and buy some anti-wrinkle face cream or something of the sort. But, for now I'm thankful that I'm not receiving the pamphlets with the woman sporting a short, gray, grandma-style do sitting in a recliner against the backdrop of a setting sun. Hopefully I will get there someday, celebrating my wrinkles that show I've been lucky enough to live that long and loving the fact that I look younger than the woman gracing the pamphlet since I still go to the salon regularly to color my grays.
The other day, however, I had my annual lady doctor appointment, and everything is fine, but she handed me a pamphlet for a procedure to nearly eliminate my monthly cycle, but you have to be done having kids, which I totally am. I shoved the pamphlet in my purse and didn't look at it until later.
When I pulled the pamphlet out later to read it, I was stuck on the picture on the front. I have obviously gotten older, and this was the first time I actually felt like I have gotten older. Apparently I will no longer be receiving pamphlets with young, bikini-clad women frolicking happily hand in hand with a handsome young beau who is obviously her fiance or new husband. They appear young, thin, well-rested, wrinkle free and excited about starting their life together. Nope. Those days are apparently gone for me. I will now get the pamphlet with an older looking, mellow woman sitting solo on a beach with a one-piece suit and long sleeve cover-up, smiling happily as she looks out to the ocean. Her sandals and book are neatly resting next to her, and while her hair isn't gray yet, her skin has obviously seen many summers of beach-going and yard work. Where her husband is remains a mystery but maybe he doesn't like the beach any more since their knees are obviously too old to be frolicking around like young children. Sigh. Again, I don't feel old, but obviously if you are done having children, you must have crossed over to looking contemplative and serene with a few fine lines gracing your face. At least that's what the medical community must think.
I stared at this for awhile and joked with my husband at my new stage in life, and made a mental note to go out and buy some anti-wrinkle face cream or something of the sort. But, for now I'm thankful that I'm not receiving the pamphlets with the woman sporting a short, gray, grandma-style do sitting in a recliner against the backdrop of a setting sun. Hopefully I will get there someday, celebrating my wrinkles that show I've been lucky enough to live that long and loving the fact that I look younger than the woman gracing the pamphlet since I still go to the salon regularly to color my grays.
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