Darn it we just will never get younger. No amount of "cover up" will hide the circles that now have taken up residence below my eyes--they were my favorite part of my face...poor babies now often look worn out and framed by wrinkled skin. My muffin top...a phrase I only learned from Exercise TV is now seriously holding my bra far from my pant top...which could be better than the under wire for which I pay dearly in my bra! I am tired by 7pm and get up to go to the bathroom at least three times before I sleep and at a minimum twice during the night. Alright I confess the occasional night when I sleep at 10 and wake up at 5am with excitement beyond belief that I slept threw the night...simple things.
Ladies we certainly have gotten a tough deal...no doubt. But then there are moments when I love so deeply, as I look at my children or hear my grand babies say something so sweet and cute that I am lost to my pains. We are so fortunate to be the ones who bring life to the world and who get to cherish all its' special moments. No offense to the guys...it is just not the same. Helps me to get past the lines growing around my mouth.
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You’re right, men are great but they just don’t get it; it’s not the same for them.
ReplyDeleteAs I've so often said "getting old isn't for wimps"...especially women. Parts of us that should be firm get limp and sag; parts of us that should be slim and trim become round and ‘fluffy’. We lose hair where we don’t want to but grow hair where it shouldn’t be. Saddlebags and love handles appear overnight…how does that happen? Where did the face and body we used to know go? I have tried creams, lotions, oils, etc. but nothing changed the fact that my best friend, me, is going through the aging process and I’m not sure I’m doing it gracefully. You may have heard me say that the one thing in life we can control and/or change is our attitude. I’ve taken the attitude that I’m going to flaunt the gray in my hair, the wrinkles and lines on my face, my arms waving and flapping like bat wings, the hairs that I don’t always remember to pluck, the mustache that often needs attention, the lumps and bulges that can make me look like a stuffed sausage in certain slacks, etc, etc, etc. I flaunt them like a badge of honor that says I’ve survived parenthood including, but not limited to the ‘terrible twos’ and the unpredictable teen years that go along with being a parent. Yes, I made it! I can proudly walk around with my head held high flaunting my wrinkles, gray hair and all. But this presents a new challenge…grandchildren and great-grandchildren. How many more winkles can a face have?