Not that long ago, I could easily see my toes when I looked down. Now, I have to bend over slightly to see past this unfamiliar bulge in my mid-section. The “spare tire” came on quite suddenly, it seems to me. I know it had to be gradual, but in my memory it was not there one day, and there the next! Suddenly, my toes were gone when I looked down. It’s kind of perplexing.
The only thing I can do at this point is shrug my shoulders and smile. Keeping a sense of humor is critical at this point in my life. I’m very thankful that I’m not real sensitive about these things. I work as a nanny, and sometimes the kids make comments that would enrage or crush some people. Don’t get me wrong; they don’t do it to be mean. They simply state facts as they see them.
Recently, one of the kids, a six-year old girl, asked if I was as old as her mom, or as old as her grandma. Before I could even answer, her face lit up as an idea popped into her head.
“Wait!” she yelled. “You must be as old as my grandma, because grandma’s have big tummies. I think you’re older than my grandma because your tummy is bigger than hers.”
I’m intrigued by the changes in my arms. The muscle seems to be turning to mush, and starting to hang straight down. I lovingly refer to them as my arm flaps. If they keep getting bigger, I could use them as weapons. I’ve been lifting light weights and doing arm exercises like mad, but the flaps don’t seem to be interested in going anyplace anytime soon. I think they are here to stay.
The arms are a great source of amusement for the kids I watch. I’m not sure how the game got started, but the three siblings ( ages four, six, and eight) decided to pretend to trade arms. They were giggling madly and pretending to take an arm off here and put it on there. Somehow in the madness, the youngest gets a little upset.
“Hey, I’m missing an arm. I need an arm.” He said.
So, the oldest tells him to take one of my arms. She quickly changed her mind, though, and told him to not take one of mine.
“She has old lady arms. You don’t want an old lady arm!”
“Hey! That’s not nice.” I said, but I was smiling. I knew she was goofing around and it didn’t bother me in the least. Not really. Then, she had an inspiration.
“I know. Let’s pretend I have magic.” she said. “I can make the arm young again!”
So, off went my arm and on to the younger brother it went. I’m waiting for her magic to work. If it does, I’m paying her to use that magic on the rest of me!
Now, for the extra chin. What is that about? I really think one is enough, but apparently my body thinks otherwise. At fifty-four, I have two chins. I wonder what it will be like at sixty-five? Three chins? Where will the madness stop? I suppose it’s useful to make silly faces at the kids. I push my chin hard towards my neck and make that extra chin pop out! It’s certainly something they can’t do, and it gets me a giggle from them.
Last, but not least, is the slow change in hair color. To be fair, my hair has changed color before. As a child I had beautiful auburn hair. As I matured, it turned a mousy light brown, nothing special. Now, it’s still that light brown, just with a lot of natural highlights, if you know what I mean. There is no doubt in my mind that the highlights are going to take over in the near future.
Oh, the joys of getting older.