Also? I'm starting to have "old people problems". Like shooting back pain from bending over wrong. Or my personal favorite - how to moisturize my newly forming wrinkles without giving unneeded moisture to my adult acne.
It's ironic, because in so many ways I've never felt better. I feel like I'm in charge of my life. Like I'm really coming into my own with regard to career and motherhood. Sometimes I'm driving around, on my way to a meeting or something and I think, "I'm DOING it!" This stage of parenting was so intimidating before kids. I couldn't fathom teaching someone how to read, or navigating the preschool enrollment process. But here I am and here we are and I AM 34. I own my own company, we're moving into a light-filled office in two weeks, and I'm getting shit done on the daily.
But the price my face is paying is not a sale price. It is a little more like an Anthropologie-type price.
Unfortunately, I'm only JUST NOW (as in, today) understanding what my Mom said when I told her in my 20's that I hated my knees (she was trying to talk me into buying a skirt that ended above my knees). She said, "But at least they are YOUNG KNEES."
In the words of Nora Ephron:
“Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was twenty-six. If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don't take it off until you're thirty-four.”
Shit! Even Nora Ephron knew that 34 is the year you get old. And FYI, I'm not interested in hearing from people over 50 who want to tell me that I'm still young. Thanks anyway though. Because this isn't actually meant to be a complaining post - it's a post to say that I've decided that before I'm SUPER DUPER old, I'm going to start wearing dresses that maybe, possibly show my knees. And also, I bought these cute tan, strappy wedges that are comfortable on my old feet but also make my legs look... less short. Which will perhaps make my knees look less like the knees of a fat baby.
3 comments:
A few summers ago, my uncle Jay looked at my knees and then told me I better get a husband...quick. True story.
Dude, I don't even want to hear about your knees. You have lovely dancer's legs. Love them. Because you don't know leg issues until you've seen my cankles. Which you'll never see because only rarely do I let them show their stumpy white selves in public. From where I sit, you're in your prime. You are beautiful and smart and accomplished on a host of levels. You own and run your own business, you are winning at raising a fantastic little human, and I'll bet Jeff thinks you're a pretty awesome wife. And you're a good friend who makes me laugh and supports me when I need it. You are, therefore, really good at getting older.
Cute shoes!
P.S. Please title your memoir "Jill Culver: Getting Shit Done on the Daily".
Thank you.
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