Middle Age. Grown Up. #Adulting. Whatever you call it, I’m in it.
You know that internet meme that goes around every so often that says something like, “I still think 1979 was 30 years ago”? That is me. Because how can 1979 be 40 something years ago when I’m still 29? (right?)
And I’m not only middle aged, I’m an “old mom” with a young kid. I easily have 5-10 years on other parents who have kids Little Mister’s age. We’re so old that we have friends who are sending their kids to college while we’re watching swim lessons. So not only do I feel old, I literally am old.
Middle age is a weird time. Part of me is all like, “Sure, I’ll have another martini!” while at the same time I’m thinking, “Man, I wish I was home in pajamas on the couch.”
I do believe you reach a certain age, and you become comfortable in your skin. You have confidence in who you’ve become and you embrace it. You don’t have time for bullshit, or for people who suck the life out of you.
In fact, your whole outlook on what is important and how you want to spend your time changes. For me, the biggest shift was in how I was spending my time.
On drinking:
Young Me: Pre-gaming started at 7pm, goes out at 9pm, still drinking at midnight.
Old Me: Prime party hours are now from 2pm-6pm, then water until bedtime.
Party animal:
Young Me: Would stay out late, sleep for 4 hours, be up at 7am. Rallied and went out again that night.
Old Me: Would have one drink past 9am, sleep for 3 hours, then up for an hour, then sleep for an hour, then be up at 5am for the day. Hung over for 2 days.
Working out:
Young Me: High-impact aerobics, pops right off the ground.
Old Me: Low impact yoga, does the “hand on the knee for balance” to stand up.
Saturday afternoon:
Young Me: Excited to do nothing all day.
Old Me: Excited to pick up the CSA and do weekly meal planning.
“How was your weekend?”:
Young Me: “GREAT! I met up with friends, tried a new brunch spot, binged Gilmore Girls.”
Old Me: “Productive. I did four loads of laundry, we cleaned out the basement, and I made a pot of soup for the week.”
When it’s 45 degrees out:
Young Me: “Do you think we need to wear a coat out?”
Old Me: “Are you crazy? It’s too cold to go out.”
Grocery shopping:
Young Me: No list, grabs just what I need for the next 2 days.
Old Me: List organized by the layout of the store, digital coupons clipped, reusable bags in tow.
One perk of Middle Age is that you’ve been there and you’ve likely done it all, and now you can focus on doing what you actually enjoy doing. I like this version of Old Me. I could do with less back pain, but other than that, I’m here for what comes next.
P.S. AARP, please stop sending me emails. I do not yet qualify for your services! Don’t rush me!
Life of kk 