Just A Number

lighted candles on white icing covered cake
Photo by Marina Utrabo on Pexels.com

Next week I will be turning 50. Half a century on this earth. A real cause for celebration and I shall be celebrating in style.

I can’t quite believe how quickly those years have passed. In my head I’m still 25. Sure, the knees creak a bit when I bend them and I sometimes make a completely involuntary noise when I get up from a chair (what is all that about?) I can remember my sister and I giggling hysterically when our Nanna would groan as she sat on the loo and now I catch myself doing it. Well, I am a nanna myself now so I suppose it must come with the territory!

I distinctly remember, as a teenager, being unaware of how old my mum was, even though I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that she had been 20 when she had me. I group of friends were discussing how old their parents were and I remember thinking that their average ages, 35 to 38, were so old. I personally loved being 36. My children were becoming more independent by that point and I felt more comfortable in my own skin. I think I finally knew who I was, it took all that time to find my true self. I also think that as a family we were becoming more financially secure and I was content. Turning 40 was not a big deal as far as I was concerned. I didn’t find it depressing or scary. I got a few very rude birthday cards but that was to be expected given my family. I generally had a good time and once it was out of the way I didn’t give it another thought.

Approaching 50 is another thing all together, although again, it hasn’t been a negative thing for me. I mean, the increasing frequency of adverts for Vagisil popping up on my Facebook timeline is a little annoying. The scattering of liver spots on my hands is puzzling. And what is it with hair as you get older? My eyebrows and armpits have become somewhat sparse and yet the hair on my legs and my head still grows at the same rate it always has, how does that work? And I’m always hot. Not in a good way either. It’s like my internal thermostat is broken. I spend every waking minute either trying to decide what to wear or trying to figure out what to take off. I haven’t worn a coat, even in the depths of winter, for years. I can’t stand being in a department store for more than a few minutes, it’s like being in a sauna for me and I get very grumpy. When our underfloor heating was installed Big decided to test how high it would go. I accused him of trying to cook me. I had to keep going outside to cool down, it was unbearable. When we have our kitchen replaced I won’t have to worry because I will be able to cook dinner on our living room floor!

When my mum was coming up to her 50th birthday her best friend signed her up to loads of mail shot companies so that for the next year or so she was inundated with leaflets and letters promoting stairlifts, mobility scooters and incontinence products. She was not amused! Hopefully my friends will not be quite so cheeky. I have some wicked plans for my own “coming of age” saga. On Wednesday eight of us gorgeous ladies are off to London in a limo to see Magic Mike Live. Nothing like a night out with a group of scantily clad, oiled up hunks of prime man to make a girl feel young. The following day, my actual birthday will include brunch with my sister and a get together with the kids and my grandson in the evening. Then at the weekend Big is taking me for a slap-up dinner at a surprise location. He is amazing at organising gifts, always finding just the right thing I never knew I wanted. I plan to have a blast next week and I will definitely be growing old disgracefully.

Thanks for reading. xx

 

 

10 thoughts on “Just A Number

  1. Im 43 and cant wait to be 50! Maybe then, I may be taken seriously. Funny about the medical equipment that come in the mail. Im actually looking for a scooter for my Pops… 😉

    Liked by 2 people

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