Okay. So, I’m not sure if I have said it before, but I feel like I have. I’ll say it again... I’m 35. In fact, soon, I will be 36. As far as aging goes, I haven’t fought it too much. I am refusing to be someone that gets upset about it. I’m going to try to embrace it. My wrinkles aren’t too bad. My hair isn’t completely gray. AND. It’s still there. Well, minus the awful haircut I had a while back. BUT... I do have hair, and it grows! There is that.
My bones have started to hurt. I’m sure it’s mild compared to what it will eventually be. I have back problems, so I’m used to that, but most recently, I have been plagued with knee pain. I’m thinking that is life’s cruel joke, as I do have a baby. I mean... getting down to the floor and back? Some days, it really hurts, and she doesn’t have patience to wait for her mother. I’m learning to grunt through it. Yes, the grunting has started.
I’ve also noticed unwanted crackling coming from my bones. What is this? If I’m still for too long, everything pops when I move. I don’t feel it. I just hear it. Well, mostly my children hear it, but still... it is heard. My knees, my back, my ankles, my neck, my shoulders, and my wrists. It’s like music! It’s so attractive. Hahaha.
I also have raccoon eyes. As I age, my bodily energy drops. My mind energy doesn’t. My body wants sleep, but my brain has other plans. And as my baby ages, her energy rises! I’m pretty tired. It’s okay, though. I’m dealing.
I know I have reached my beauty peak. My looks will only deteriorate from here. I’m okay with it. Hopefully, my husband is. Hahaha!
This is all a part of life that I am willing to accept, and God willing, I’ll live many, many more years.
Do you know what isn’t a part of aging? Do you know what I am not okay with? The growth that has recently formed on my chin. That’s right, I call her Barbara. I mean, if we were to be as one, she needed a name. We are sharing my chin, may as well get acquainted.
When I look in the mirror, I feel the need to say... “Oh, Hey, Barb!”. She just stares at me with disgust.
When I say my prayers, I feel I need to say one for her, too, like she is listening and waiting for her turn to be acknowledged. Hell, do I feed her? I really don’t know how to act, and it’s rather uncomfortable.
I can apply powder to her 107 times in a day, but every time I pass a mirror, I see the bitch is beaming again. How does she get the makeup off? Is she eating it? Wait?! Is that what she eats?
When I wake up in the morning, she is the first thing I feel, and I’m wondering why my family doesn’t go ahead and greet us both. Two cups of coffee? One for me. One for Barbara?
Why is she invading my space? And what the hell is up with this? Lord knows, I have tried to get rid of her. Wrong thing do to. The pain is real, and she grew bigger, all red with fury! I’m all... “Okay, Barb! I’m done! I’ll leave you alone. Chill your shit.”
And the timing couldn’t be worse. I’m in a selfie contest, for the love of everything holy! Why now? I have to be careful about angles, because Barbara is constantly trying to steal the spotlight, and the light gives it to her! Face dark. Barbara beaming. Cool.
I see people looking at it. I know they are like... HEY, IT’S ELLI...cia, and what is that on her face? I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know if I should introduce her? Turn my face a different angle? Bandaid? Medical tape and Neosporin? Make up a cool story?
Anyway, this isn’t fair. If I’m to be aging, my skin should long be finished producing mega-pimples. Does it ever stop? Anyone older than me, please tell me that it stops? Please? Puberty was YEARS ago.
Needless to say, family pictures have been postponed.
Peace. Love. And sharing a chin with Barbara.
E... and Barb.
