Turning 50

Happy Birthday, ya old broad! Happy Half Century! Wow, are you old! Hey!  You are old enough now for AARP and the Red Hats! These were some of the comments I received this week of my 50^th birthday.  I think probably one of the nicest comments was from my daughter in law, followed closely by my daughter.

Daughter-in-law (sweet and tactful): “It’s the experience you should be proud of. 50 years of experience and life accomplishments is nothing to sneeze at.”

Daughter (Just as sweet but not so tactful): “Aw Mom, you don’t look THAT old.”  [I should mention that this was the same daughter who, 5 years ago, picked through my head like a spider monkey when she first figured out that those blond highlights (better known as stress highlights) were actually streaks of gray hair.]   Child was so observant she hadn’t noticed them in the previous 5 years.

I’m in good company.   Sharon Stone,  Susan Sarandon,  Dolly Parton, Olivia Newton John, and Sofia Loren just to name a few are cougars that don’t look a day over 25 and if I could afford it so would I.   Let’s not forget Barbie.  No sag, no drag and surgery free.   It’s not so bad.  I could look like Keith Richards.

All I can think about turning 50 is that I am just middle aged! To me, old age will always be older than I am.  None the less things started happening little by little.   Slowly at first so I could dismiss them as some sort of weird fluke.  Things that I would have continued to ignore if they weren’t as obvious as a lit neon sign pasted to my forehead.

I was in my mid 40’s when I had my first physical adventure with the unusual.  I spent a good many hours brushing my hair out of my eyes.  I chatted with co-workers, shopped and did otherwise public things before I got home only to discover that the one 10 inch hair that had been harassing me all day was connected, not to my head, as I first thought, but to my eyebrow.  I was startled and promptly plucked.  Before too long it became too much to pluck and I began to have them waxed until one day my beautician suggested I “trim them” as well as wax them.  When did those lovely gentile arches morph into a large dark furry caterpillar crawling all the way across my forehead?   Again my beautician with more talent than tact explained softly, “That happens to a lot of older ladies.”

My next misadventure was again when my beautician suggested gently that I might want to wax my mustache.  WHAT MUSTACHE??!!  I looked in the mirror and a 5 o’clock shadow from my upper lip jumped out of the mirror and vibrated before my horrified eyes.  I thought eyebrow waxing was bad.  My husband thought I was kidding when I would tell him I was going out to get my lip ripped until one day he waited in the car and stared in horror as I came out looking like someone had given my upper lip 50 lashes.

Then my chin began acting out.  Nothing soft and gentle like my eyebrows migrating.  Oh, no, not for me.   I had hairs that rivaled the biblical mote and needle sharp erupting in greater and greater quantity. Not only that but when they were plucked, waxed, shaved, sanded, clipped or vanished with depilatories they not only came back with a vengeance but left ugly acne looking rashes that my doctor called Pseudofolliculitis barbae or, in the layman’s terms that I understood,  ingrown hairs.  Seems curly haired people are prone. Now not only do I have a hormone problem, I have one that broadcast itself in the form of some sort of plague on my face and neck. (If any of you have found a low income cure I’d be happy to hear it)

I discovered my nose hair was out of control when I spent several days with a wadded tissue trying to subtly scratch irresistibly itchy nostrils and discovered spider web hair, not only sticking out of my nose in every direction but accumulating whatever came it’s way.  When I was sure the entire world thought I picked my nose or thought I should, I went to the drug store to buy one of those little scissors that are used for just such a purpose.  Don’t let them kid you!  Those safety scissors are anything but safe.  Even after years of practice I keep the Neosporin and a cotton ball close by for when I invariably take a chunk of skin along with hair out of my nose.

Then came the day when I laughed and had to change my slacks.  Not too long after that it was a sneeze or a cough.  Weak bladder muscles from having so many children I was told.  OH YEAH!?  Then how come it waited until all of my children reached adulthood?!!  THAT was an age thing!  <SIGH>

Mentally I barely notice.  Oh sure, I have offended my friends oncologist by glancing at the doctor and telling her, “They get younger and younger.”  And have you seen these kids driving?  GOODNESS!  They look all of 8. (Drive like it too sometimes)  I would like to think that managers interviewing me for jobs are impressed by my knowledge rather than thinking I’m rigid and can’t keep up with my profession even though they do look like they are right out of high school and can’t possibly have enough experience to know that.

I can explain away a lot of the things I hear my friends complain about.  I can take everything heading south.  I kind of expected that.  Anyone who has bore a number of children can experience sag  relatively early in life.  Smiling and smoking added a few lines.  I had to buy new teeth but I come from a family with notoriously bad teeth.  I got trifocals but I have had bifocals since I was 16.  A few more pounds packed on.  OK…A lot of pounds packed on.  I overeat.    People in regular conversation speak softer.  Hot flashes better known as tropical moments or personal summers were also easy to deal with since I had gone through surgical menopause in my late 20’s.  I could have done without the sweats but you take ‘em as you get ‘em.  We slow down, but hey, we’ve worked hard and this is the way of getting older…not old.  I have not TURNED 50 like milk that has turned sour.  I have reached 50 despite the obstacles that sought to prevent me.  I would like to think it is with grace and elegance.    If not, it will be with attitude, like Maxine.  I think I will like being 50.

Tags: 50 years, Barbie, Birthday, century, chin hair, Dolly Parton, eyebrow hair, ingrown hair, leaky bladder, Middle age, nose hair, Olivia Newton John, Pseudofolliculitis barbae, Sharon Stone, Sofia Loren, Susan Sarandon, weak bladder, Woman's mustache, Young, youth