Not Ready to Be a Proud Card-Carrying Member
by Ritz of Time For Ritz
The envelope came this week. To be honest, it came as a bit of a surprise. I really thought the mailman made a mistake…..till I saw my name on it. Wait a minute here, I’m not 50 yet. I haven’t wrapped my head around the fact yet…. that I’ll be 50 in September. WOW! It’s not that I don’t KNOW I’ll be 50 this year and in some ways I’ve been preparing for what I want to do for my birthday. But there is a difference between planning a getaway to a spa and a boozy filled weekend with the girls and shoving a “Hey yo, yeah you, you’re old” card in my face.
Nope, I’m not ready for that.
I stared at the envelope. I didn’t open it, just stared at it. Then, as if it was some secret letter I had to hide from everyone, I quickly shoved it in my purse without even opening it. There it sits, hidden between my checkbook and my make up bag.
Getting older isn’t a big deal to me or so I thought, until a few months ago when I missed my period. Since puberty I’ve been like clockwork. Hence, when each time I got pregnant I knew right away that I was. Before this happened, I couldn’t wait till menopause came so I wouldn’t have to deal with that anymore. It’s not like I was going to have any more kids, I got my tubes tied years ago so I saw no point in having my life interrupted every month with cramps, bloating and spending money on tampons.
The day that I realized that I actually missed my period, I cried. Instead of being thrilled as I always imagined I would be, I mourned my loss. My forgetfulness and foggy brain these past few months weren’t stress related as I had thought it was. It’s the beginning of menopause.
Through tears, I told David I missed my period. I needed him to wrap his arms around me and tell it me it was okay and that it didn’t make a difference. Instead, he looked like I had just hit him over the head and he asked me…” Are you pregnant?” Dude, seriously? If that was the case I would be happily planning how we would be spending all the money we would get from the lawsuit for a screwed up tubal ligation. GEEZ!!
There are changes to body that I’ve accepted. The wrinkles on my face let me know that I have always smiled alot. Those bags under my eyes mean I don’t rest enough. The grey in my hair is respectfully (for the time being) coming in closer to my scalp, well hidden from view. I can get highlights, I like my hair lighter anyway. It has been a hard winter and my legs and feet, OMG the feet are super dry. I officially now have my mom’s disgusting scaly, cracked feet. I’m sure I could cut my husband’s legs in his sleep if I didn’t apply lotion on them.
But last month I discovered something new. I was taking my undies off and I saw all these white little flakes in my black pretty undies. At first I thought it was baby powder, till I realized I don’t use any. Then it hit me. WTF….who gets dry ass cheeks? Is it just me? Is my skin THAT dry that even my ass cheeks, who never are exposed to the elements, start sloughing skin like a snake? These days I apply body lotion head to toe when I get out of the shower. My butt cheeks are now happy.
I’ve started a new chapter in my life that I’m not so willing to begin, but as my husband says…it’s better than the alternative. So today I’m opening up my AARP letter. I hear I can get discounts.