My Five Signs of Aging

Women everywhere (and men for that matter) are spending millions of dollars every year on “anti-aging” products. I have to admit that lately I’ve been interested in their claims that I would look ten years younger within a week (or two or four) if I’d only spend half of my paycheck on one them. But not only can I not afford it, I don’t believe a word they say. I used to proclaim that I would earn every wrinkle I would get, that I was going to age gracefully. Probably because I was about 25 at the time. But as I age mature celebrate each birthday, I am starting to rethink my position. The only thing I feel good about is that I don’t have any of the “normal” signs of aging. I have…others. And I honestly don’t believe there is a product in the world that can help me with any of them.

The most common sign most women have that they are maturing is wrinkles on their face. I’m fortunate enough not to have many. I’m blessed with my mother’s genes that way. No, my wrinkles have shown up in the most unlikely of places…my chest. I know, right? I was looking in the mirror not too long ago and as the light hit me just right, I saw it. Who gets wrinkles on their chest for crying out loud? When I brought it up to a friend, she suggested it was from side sleeping and keeping my arms crossed as I do so. To that end, I am now a back sleeper. Not a very comfortable one but it’s all in the name of a more youthful look.

As I was noticing my wrinkly, aging chest, I also noticed something else. A few little hairs growing out of my neck. What??? I don’t mind waxing the eyebrows. Have been doing so since I was in my early 20’s. But on my neck? I vaguely remember my mother pulling these things out of her chin from time to time but never thought that I would someday be doing the same. I got out my tweezers the first time and yanked those puppies out. And a week later, the little snots were back again. How is it when you pull something out by the roots, they can grow back? I know it’s only three or four but I’m vain. I guess I’ll keep plucking away as soon as they show their ugly little heads since I can’t afford laser removal.

I’m not heavy. I could stand to lose a few pounds, mostly in my butt, but that’s about it. In spite of my tininess (as my daughter calls it), it seems my belly button has turned into a donut hole, more or less. It’s like my spine is sucking it inside…or something. Is this normal or am I an anomaly? I’m waiting for a slobbering little alien to come pushing it’s ugly head out. I guess I should be doing more crunches but I honestly never thought I had much of a problem in that area. Crunches are a pain in the behind but I’m doubling up on them. And decreasing my intake of ice cream and most all things tasty.

You hear about cellulite when people talk about getting older and many ways to get rid of it. My butt, rather than having cellulite, has decided that it doesn’t like where it has resided for most of my life and has moved South. Not as far South as I moved several years ago but lower all the same. I thought chasing a four-year-old was supposed to take care of gravity issues such as this but obviously he isn’t moving fast enough. Or mayhap I’m not? My only solution…Move, boy, move!!!

My feet are another problem. They’re not widening. Or narrowing for that matter. They have just decided in the last few years to go their own way. Not literally, of course, but my favorite types of shoes just don’t seem to fit anymore. I’ve never really liked wearing shoes anyway but this little issue makes it even more of a problem. I can try on a pair in a store and if they aren’t completely comfortable, I know immediately that if I buy them because I like the way they look, they’ll spend a long, lonely life in my closet, never to be worn. Until I put them in the Goodwill bag and send them off. Lately, I’ve been trying on a lot of those but because I’m the thrifty sort, I put them back on the shelf and walk away. But cute little shoes (ok, Size 9 shoes) seem to be a thing of the past. I’m not going so far as to wear orthopedic styles but Sketchers make some that make life a little bearable. I am fortunate to live in a climate where actual closed toe, foot-suffocating, toe-cramping footwear are only necessary for about two months out of the year. I wear sandals and my feet thank me.

These are my issues. I’m sure I’m not alone in any of these but to me, they are monumental. Fine, they’re not. But they are really annoying. I guess it could be worse, so I’ll have to be grateful that this is the extent of my aging process…thus far.