There was a brief pause while my wife thought of a nice way to put it. “I think we look a lot older than we think we do.”
I’m squarely in my mid-30s (dangerously close to adding the -to-late to that "mid") and, like most people, I still think of myself as a much younger version of myself. But there are some signs, which I suppose I have chosen to ignore, that I am aging at least as quickly as Jennifer Lopez is.
Exhibit A – The other night I was tucking my daughter into bed and her entire prayer that night consisted of this: “Dear God, thank you for a very good day. Thank you for Daddy and Mommy. Please help Daddy not to get any more gray hairs. Amen.”
Where did that come from? Sure, I’m not a toe-headed, sun-bleached-blond kid anymore, but I’m not really gray yet. Not unless you count my facial hair which is shockingly grey when I let it grow out (something I’m less and less likely to allow).
Exhibit B – We keep our dishwasher detergent under the kitchen sink. Every time I bend down to grab a Pre-Soaking Powerball thing I find myself thinking, “Wow, I need to stretch more.”
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| Photo courtesy of Wikipedia. I love using these things. |
Exhibit C – For at least a dozen years after I turned 21 I would be asked to produce my ID when purchasing alcohol. Now when I go through the self-checkout lane at the grocery store all I have to do is look up at the attendant and hold my 6-pack of beer up so they can see it and override the system controls so I can complete my purchase. There’s simply no doubt I’m old enough to drink legally. Perhaps I should be thankful that California law has recently changed and the purchase of alcohol is no longer permitted in the self-checkout lanes. It’ll give the clerks a chance to flatter me once more . . . or confirm the truth.
Final Exhibit – I went out for a little late winter clean up in the garden recently. Our winters are mild enough that weeds and seedlings seem to grow all year so there was a lot of hands-and-knees kinds of chores for me to do. Weeding on your hands and knees is hard enough by itself. Mix in a few plants that you are trying to work around and it becomes a game of outdoor Twisters. Right foot mulch, left foot brick, left hand pushing on tree trunk, right hand weeding! I was able to manage for a while* but somewhere between crouching like a baseball catcher with one leg out
and lunging forward to grab a weed like an Olympic curler, my body decided to revolt.
As I lay on my side in the leaf mold and mulch of the garden bed, unable to move because my out of shape butt cheeks and quads had constricted to the point where I was momentarily paralyzed from the waist down, I had no delusions of youth whatsoever. Nor dignity for that matter.
What do I take away from all this? Aside from the obvious, which is that I’m no longer 18 with the flexibility of a Gumby doll, I am starting to realize and accept that I am not immune to the ailments of aging. And suddenly I regret having fast-forwarded through all those segments of Gardening by the Yard that talked about pre-gardening stretching, the correct way to use a shovel and how to stay hydrated while working.
*a relative term, to be sure.
Haha, too funny! I definitely am getting in the same boat, as after awhile of gardening I have to take ibuprofen and sit on a heating pad even while protesting, 'I'm too young for this!'
ReplyDeleteI've gotten to the point where I take ibuprofen about an hour before my softball games. Maybe I need to do the same thing with gardening? I'm too young for this too!
DeleteIt happens to the best of us! Never realized it was a curling stance I use so much in my garden to try to get under those shrubs! I hope your daughter never sees you momentarily paralyzed - she'll have to add more to her prayer!
ReplyDeleteI hope my daughter is spared that sight as well; for her sake and mine!
DeleteI am smiling! I think your daughter's prayer is precious. However, you get no sympathy from me. I am old enough to be your mother, and I can tell you that gardening, like children, will either keep you young or kill you.
ReplyDeleteNo sympathy? Not even a little bit? Ahhh, alright. So far gardening hasn't killed me so hopefully it's keeping me young. If my blog goes silent for a while you'll know why though.
DeleteLOL, so true! I've recently been feeling my age in the garden, and actually wondering why I didn't embark on the manual labor projects around here while I was in my 20s. As they say, youth is wasted on the young ;) Good idea about those pre-gardening stretches...I might have to start doing that. The hills around here are helping to keep me (somewhat) in shape, but my muscles are definitely not as loose as they used be! I definitely notice the morning after a day in the garden, much more than I used to!
ReplyDeleteOne thing I've noticed about gardening is how many different muscles I use for all the different tasks. I didn't think I was all that out of shape until I started getting down on my hands and knees.
DeleteI use to be carded often as well and was always delighted. Now, I still get carded but then I am told that they card everybody...oh well...aging is a part of life. I suppose I could focus on other things...
ReplyDeleteI see those signs that say "Card everyone that looks 100 or younger". They might as well card us all. It's good for PR if nothing else.
DeleteI totally relate! My knees are 42 going on 92 and there have been times I'm stuck, bent over with my butt in the air, because I can't get them to cooperate by bending enough to stand upright. Funny but humbling at the same time.
ReplyDelete"Funny but humbling" is exactly how I feel about it. I'm glad I'm not alone in finding myself in that predicament.
DeleteChad, One "benefit" of teaching, where the age gap between my students and me gets wider every year, is that it forces me to update my self-image on a fairly regular basis. First I was like a big sister to my students; then came the long years when they confused me with their mothers (not the nice mother, the one they refer to as "she" or even something less polite). I was shocked a few years ago when a student in one of my classes told me she had taken the course on the recommendation of her roommate who had been in one of my courses the previous semester and described it as "like having class with your grandmother"! Once I did the math, though, I had to admit that I *was* old enough to be their grandmother. I have now come to value my new "elder stateswoman" status; it is way better than being seen as a b----y mother. -Jean
ReplyDeleteJean - I can really see how your contact with students would give you that updated self image. I suppose I had that for a while when I was working with younger people while still in my 20s but then when I switched career fields everyone sort of blended into one "out of school" demographic and age differences were not as obvious.
DeleteI can't imagine any of your students thinking you were b----y though! You seem like the nicest person around!