Recently I told Dear Hubby that I don’t feel my age. I can’t believe I’m a 53 year old. On the inside, I’m like 32. He said on the inside he is still a teen-ager. I knew that. I tell people I have 5 kids but everyone knows it’s really 6.
The advantage of being an older parent is that it keeps you young. I have a friend my exact age who has grandkids the ages of my children. She is a grandma! She doesn’t run anymore, she makes posts on Facebook about red hats, she bakes cookies, she forgets things. I have to exercise every morning because I still have to lift 100 pounds of preschoolers several times a day. I bake cookies too — but to pack in lunch boxes because I can’t bear to fill my kids full of preservatives and corn syrup. I don’t feel grandmotherly. Most of the time . . .
I hurt my hip when I was running. I’m not sure what happened. I didn’t notice the injury when it occurred but for days I have walked around with a sore hip. In attachment therapy with our 5 year old, I had to sit on the sofa instead of the floor because I was afraid I couldn’t get up again. It hurts worst when I’ve been sitting so I walk around all crouched over. At my daughter’s ball tournament, I stood for an entire game because it was too hard to keep standing up.
Who hurts their hip? I’ll tell you who, old people! I think I have it about worked out . . . it just has a bit of residual soreness now.
It all served as an important reminder. While I feel young on the inside, I am actually middle aged. I have to take better care of myself than when I was younger. I can’t afford to suddenly run twice as far as I did the week before because I’m more prone to injury and injury recovery is slower than it used to be.
Am I ready for the rocking chair? No. But some realities do require my attention. Thanks for the wake up call, Life!