Aging. What a beautiful thing.
About, oh...a year ago, I was invited over to a close friend of my mom's to try on clothes that she didn't want anymore. She was ready to part with them. Since my wardrobe speaks of Target with only the occasional flash of Rod Stewart boots...mmm..preKIDS, I was IN. My mom went with me. I knew it was going to be a good time when my mom's friend opened up a bottle of wine at 3pm in the afternoon. The feeling was cemented when she walked in the guestroom bearing an armload of clothes and kept going back for more. It was a little overwhelming and intimidating...but, I hung in there. You see, I don't really have that "shopping gene" that most women seem to have. It makes me a little anxious and uncomfortable. I love great clothes, but the process of acquiring them - even when presented as a gift is not something that comes easily. As I slipped on leggings, shimmied into pants and slid sexy tops over my head, I felt as if in a dream. I was molting out of outfits and into new ones that definitely didn't feel like couture de Targay.
But then...
You have a beautiful figure. Enjoy it while you can. Once you hit a certain age, well ...it just isn't the same. And it never goes back.
It appears that the lady with the bounty friggin' cursed me.
Wham! Not even a year and a half later...
It has happened. I am 46 years old. And my stomach in the belly button area looks as if
Saggy Baggy Elephant has taken up residence. My stomach! Forget droop.
It drips. And there is
this certain area directly over the belly button that looks as if it is there to stay. I don't know how to describe it really...other than a bread that's risen...and fallen. Kind of sunk in the center. I did gain 45lbs during my pregnancy with GIRL. It felt right. I ate everything. I was ZAFTIG and round.
I loved it. I lost the weight, mostly due to running after BOY and having two children 10 months apart. Imagine a woman with two baby shaped footballs under each arm,
running - and that was me.
But, I don't do all that much running any more. Unless I am running AWAY FROM THE KIDS into the house because...after all, it is JackO'Clock. And the addition of blogging into my life has been delightful, but sedentary. Alas, I believe I have hit that certain age. And it isn't fair, dammit! I don't feel 46. I feel...mmm 36.
When I went in for my postpartum 6 week check-up after giving birth to GIRL, I thought it would be a good time to bring up the subject of having my tubes tied. NOPE. Apparently, the time to bring up having your tubes tied is RIGHT AFTER BIRTH!! My OB/GYN sighed ...as if looking at that sad stray that's been hanging around your house begging for scraps.
I'm SO sorry, JCK. The time to have your tubes tied would have been right after you gave birth to GIRL. It would be quite a procedure at this point. Dangerous.
You've got to be fucking KIDDING me...I wanted to say. I'll show YOU dangerous, baby!! Dangerous is sending this woman home to her husband!! But, I slunk home and GLARED at E. Vasectomy...I hissed. And he wonders why every time he leers at me my hair stands on end. The thought of getting pregnant again, EVER again, is a thought that warrants a sign-up for that indefinite stay at Casa de Insane Asylum. Having more than 2 children is FABULOUS ...for OTHER people. I'll just hum along with 2 children, thank you very much. Keep your PopAwheelie's reserved for the 14 day safe margin. I'll wave the fishnets, you bring the blanks.
But, the worst thing? The worst thing about all of this...this, flesh dripping, aging thing? The worst thing is that it all could have been avoided. Yes, MA'AM! You see, I missed out BIG TIME. My friends who got the little "snip, snip tube tying action" also got a bonus. A free tummy tuck. Yes. They. Did. Wenches! And all I want to know is this...how come I missed out on the tummy tuck!?
**Picture Credit: Google Images
Aging. What a beautiful thing.
