Age. It sneaks up on you. Oh, yes, dear lordy it does.
One day, you are a kid frolicking through the days of youth without a care. The very next, you are plucking a chin hair.
A chin hair.
Eeew. What woman has a chin hair? Oh noooo, you don't. Don't you do it - you cannot hide behind denial because I know the truth. I see the truth, of all of us, jutting out of my chin occasionally. What the peanut butter......and I am definitely NOT a witch.
Crows feet. Yup. Check.
Age spots. I prefer just another freckle; this one just seems to be slightly larger than any other taking up residence on my skin.
Stretch marks - well, duh, three kids later and no photoshop nor plastic surgery expense line in my budget.
Yes, sometimes I fart when I sneeze. The doctors say that happens; especially after the aforementioned kids. Okay, sometimes I pee a teensy eensy bit with a giant gesundheit. Whoever said kegels is the magic answer is just a liar....or did not have three kids.
Since we are on the topic of bathroom discussion, I have had to make that mad beeline to the nearest restroom, shoving anyone and everyone out...of....my....way. You do NOT want THAT to happen. I will blame that on the kids as well.
Snap, crackle and pop is not coming from the kids' cereal bowls in the early morning hours. That would be my joints, my cartilage (or perhaps lack thereof) and my bones shaking off the evening slumber.
Age. It finds you a lot earlier than you would have ever thought possible. Heck, I am not even 40 yet.
So, I am determined to push this little age bitch away. I am NOT ready to admit any of it -none of the tell-tale signs of years gone by. I hear you laughing as I just shared way too much info on a way too public blog. Well, take this - I have tweezers. I will continue to pluck that ugly little mofo chin hair that thinks it can mess with me. I will blame that sneaky sneezy fart on the person closest to me. I will rub massive amounts of Oil of Olay into my crows feet and onto my age spots so my skin has nothing but reversal.
Actually, I will count each wrinkle in my face as a memory - of years of laughter etched into my skin like a stroke of art, layer upon layer. My stretch marks are one way to keep all three of my children close to me - again, memories of a time when they pushed and stretched their boundaries within my very being. My cracking joints, a reminder to keep young -by eating healthy and pushing my physical limitations through various forms of exercise.
2013 is about me. As of January 5th, I will have precisely ONE year left until I am 40. I intend to roll into 40 looking better, acting better and damn well with more attitude than I had at 20. I will walk the beach with utter confidence. I will smirk at the 20 year olds with their skinny little bikinis and their insecurities. Because damn, I can wear a chin hair better than any one of them. Bring it sister. Bring YOUR chin hair along for the ride.