I suppose it's time to face facts. I am officially an old fart. This isn't really a new realization; I've been wrestling with this for some time. I have embraced my impending "elderly-ness," mainly because I'm just too darn tired to fight it anymore, but also for many other reasons that have lately come to light.
For instance, I have vivid memories of my parents when they were my age, and they seemed really old. I suppose that's how my children see me now. I'm that old bore who's always saying things like, "Back in my day..." I always thought I would be the mom who seemed eternally young and hip. Then I realized that young, cool moms don't use words like "hip." Which reminds me, I need to go take my Calcium supplement.
I remember a time when I stayed out all night on crazy road trips and doughnut runs. I would get back in time to go to class, take a quick nap on a couch at the BCM, and then I was off again on another adventure. The other night I fell asleep in the chair in front of the television. Watching Cooking Channel. At nine o'clock. So many things about that just scream "OLD!"
The funny thing is that, while I complain a bit, I don't really mind growing older. It sure beats the alternative. And aging has it's advantages. It's the perfect excuse to take naps.
I hope that when I'm really old I can be what folks describe as "spry." I want to be the slightly crazy old lady who zips around town in a red sports car and has a purse full of butterscotch candy to give to any children I meet. I'll travel, and take salsa lessons, and create weird art.
Right now, I guess I'm just resting up for retirement.