Last week a student told me she liked the way I smelled.  I said thanks and that’s so nice.  She said you smell like my grandma. Seriously? I’m preparing to turn 45.  I think that officially makes me middle aged.  I’ve never been one to get real hung up on numbers, but for some reason the ones that end with 5 and 0 seem to hit you just a little harder.  Make you more reflective.  Contemplate a little more. Evaluate your choices. Wonder about the future.   And maybe just shake your head.  Hopefully smile.  Laugh.  We’re all thinking the same things: How the hell did I get here? Surely, that won’t happen to me? And do I really smell like someone’s grandma?

Brain Fog.  I literally can’t remember s***. I have reminders set and notifications going off all day and I still can’t remember to do stuff.  I take medication twice a week.  This week I put the medication package in my bathroom sink so I would see it the next morning. I forgot to take it, however, found it still laying in the bottom of the sink which means I removed it to brush my teeth and then put it back in the sink – none of which served as a reminder to actually take it.  Really?  Last week I was teaching a lesson to my older high school students.   In the middle of the lesson, I completely lost my train of thought.  The train pulled out of the station and then just rode off into the sunset.  There was nothing there.  I stood there a minute, thinking the train would return.  Finally one of my students asked if I was okay.  He said, “I can actually see you trying to think.”  I asked what does that look like.  He replied, “Nothing.  It looked like there is nothing going on in there.”  I broke out laughing because he was so absolutely right.  So the brain is a little foggy – no big deal.  I just laugh and put on the low beams!  I can do this!

No Metabolism.  Approximately 3.21 seconds after I turned 40 my metabolism grounded to a halt.  I gave up snacking on Oreos in my 20’s.  I gave up my nightly chips and salsa in my 30’s.  I am now drinking diet alcohol in my 40’s.  Take a moment and take a deep breath because you heard me correctly – diet alcohol.  It has 100 calories, 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of carbohydrates.  I may tell you out loud that I like it and I do, but do I love it.  No.  The slim little can with the brightly colored fruit on the outside does not make it a beer or a giant margarita.  Let’s add that to the meal prep.  Is meal prep a new thing or have “middle-aged” people always been doing it?  I’ve found my self measuring an “exact” ½ cup of cucumber for my salad or weighing my chicken to the nearest milligram.  I have actually counted the number of spinach leaves I am “allowed” in my salad.  Did you catch me saying salad more than once – yes, I thought so.  I’m pretty sure my 20 year old self would think about kicking the a** of my 40 year-old self.  They would not get along!

The Sag.  What the hell is going on with my body?  Remember the book “The Saggy, Baggy Elephant”?  It’s like my body, but in reverse.  Everything started out firm, but now is drooping and pulling and working its way downward.  My knees.  I first noticed it on my knees and I swear to you I had never thought about my knees before.  Ever.  It’s like this organization that is selling memberships and the wrinkles and ridges just keep signing up.  I am now conscious about not locking my legs.  If you stand with a slight bend in the knee then the fat pushes forward and fills in the wrinkles.  Recently my elbows also joined the party along with the skin on either side of my mouth.  I’m sure if I stand with slightly bent knees and elbows and my face puffed out to fill the sag no one will even notice. It will seem perfectly normal. Right?

Fat Armpits. Did you even know armpits could get fat?  I sure as hell didn’t.  No one ever told me. And what about back bulge?  What about our boobs?  I won’t go completely unfiltered, but come on people, we all know what’s going on there just ain’t right. I don’t care how big or small you are – at some point there is fat in your armpits, bulge on your back, and boobs that just ain’t right.  No matter what miracle bra you wear or “smoothing” cami – it’s not going away.  To come to terms with this I have chosen to see my body as a scientific marvel instead of as an aging mess.  We all learned about the super continent Pangea that existed on Earth millions of years ago.  All the continents were squished together – kind of like the female body in it’s prime.  Everything is high and tight and right where it should be.  As years passed, the continent of Pangea slowly broke apart and the continents spread out and settled in parts on all sides of the Earth.  So that’s what happened to me also.  As the years passed, my boobs didn’t go away.  Parts of them settled in my armpits. Parts of them settled in my back.  Sort of boob migration?  So basically I’m a scientific marvel – a miracle if you will – because my body managed to  achieve something in just 20 years that took the Earth millions of years to do. 

So as I start my 46^th year, what will I do about brain fog?  I’ll do what 45 years has taught me.  I will try new things to help me remember. I will admit if I make a mistake.  I will ask for help.  I will accept the help. I will laugh at myself. I will know that not every situation has to be so serious.  I can do this because age has taught me I don’t have to be perfect and I don’t have to have it all together.  It’s not only okay, but it’s good, that I keep striving to continuously be better.  What will I do about a low metabolism?  Well, honestly probably put on weight. Work out harder or differently.  Continue to eat healthy – but not because of how it looks but because I’ve learned that I truly do feel better when I take better care of my body.   Age has taught me to appreciate my health – I’ve learned that one moment or one minute or one day can change my life or the life of someone around me.  Life is gift and I know I want to live it.  What will I do about the sag?  Keep sagging. Keep drooping.  Keep signing up more wrinkles.  But not worry about it.  Not care.  Wear my wrinkles. I’ve learned that those wrinkles carry my story – my journey.  Age has taught me to accept that even though the journey hasn’t always been what I expected, that maybe that’s because it can be and will be more than I had ever expected.  Every part of me – inside and out – is my story and I finally have the courage and confidence to say I am so proud of that story. What will I do about my fat armpits?  Nothing.  We’ve already established that that is just a flat out miracle and one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in my 45 years is that life is a miracle – every smile, every sunset, every person, every accomplishment, every moment.  It’s just one big amazing miracle.  (Okay, other than smelling like someone’s grandma – that ain’t miraculous or acceptable!)  So I say welcome year 46.  I can’t wait to get another year older.