I find myself paying more and more attention to advertisements about wrinkle creams. I haven’t bought one yet…. but I’ve moved from “pre-contemplative” to “contemplative” stage. It’s not a frame of mind I thought I’d ever be in.
It is only one of a series of symptoms of feeling…. older, or at least different in a more mature kind of way. I’ll share a few more symptoms.
- Recently, I requested a lower-level floor at a hotel. And I try to avoid bridges. Because being high up makes my head feel more swimmy than my younger days.
- Those kids – they just play their music too loud! Turn it down!
- I have no clue who most of the people are on music awards shows.
- I have no idea what movies are playing at the theater.
- I call the movie place a “theater.”
- That 90’s music… that’s where it’s at! Where is the decent oldies radio station!?
- I overuse words like “cool” and “sweet” with full cognizance that I don’t think hip people use those words any more. They probably don’t say ‘hip’ either.
- I am a sustaining member of NPR.
- I’ve adopted the stance that daily showering and shampooing is overrated.
- AARP sends me junk mail. I open it. I think, “Maybe I should consider joining!”
- My doctor is younger than me. It weirds me out a little.
- The gray hair. I mean, the sparkly hair…. it just won’t quit.
- I pull the ‘mom card’ on kids that are not my own.
- All I want to read in my spare time lately are fiction mysteries by female authors, especially if they involve quilts or female friendships.
- I cannot sleep without warm socks on.
It is perhaps possible that these are not symptoms of growing older. Perhaps they are just symptoms of a full life with little room for distractions. Perhaps I’m just growing wiser, becoming more European, or channeling my inner hippie. Probably all of the above.
But the fact remains. There are wrinkles beside my lips that only straighten out if I pull my skin to the side, and a few more wrinkles on my forehead that don’t go away no matter if I tug and pull or not. And it’s weird because I am not anti-wrinkle. But I am learning that I guess I am more vain than I thought. Given the choice, I’d rather not have the wrinkles. Yet.
So, this morning I was wondering… to buy or not to buy?
Well, as I type, I just received a beauty treatment by my 6-year-old and 4-year old. They lovingly applied lipstick, blush, and eyeshadow. One eye has purple and the other blue. After putting my glasses back on me, my daughter exclaimed: “Mommy, you are beautiful.”
Well, so maybe I won’t buy that wrinkle cream quite yet.
About Mary Beth Cox