Another Day in the Life of an Aging Woman - The Sequel

I found a grey eyelash today.  I had to nearly smash my nose up against the mirror to confirm my discovery.  Then I feverishly tried to cover it with mascara but that silver sheen kept popping through the black I loaded onto it.

That’s not to say that I haven’t found silver hairs poking out of other more discreet places.  They actually sell dye for that unmentionable place – in an array of colors.   But I’m not diving to those depths of conversation as much as I might like today.

Oh, I’ve been battling the silver head hairs for years now.   But they are gaining on me and pop through the hair color quicker.  Okay, I know.  They don’t pop out of anywhere.  It just means my hair is growing faster than the cost effectiveness of the dye job.  Okay, okay, I should be happy for that.  The last five years have seen my hair diminish to the point that baby barrettes were not holding the whole kit and caboodle together.  I was the perfect candidate for hair club for men and don’t think I didn’t do some web research on hair replacement therapies.

So, I am really happy that my hair has come back and is growing again.  Yet, I don’t get to fully appreciate the beautiful job Usama does on my hair for very long.  I don’t understand why we can’t just pay for the two inches at the roots dye job every few months.  The middle and bottom parts of my hair are just fine.  It’s just that nagging silver raccoon tail running up the middle of any part I put in my hair that pisses me off!

The one aging “perk” that I would enjoy is the slowing of hair growth on my legs and underarms.  I have aunts who say they haven’t shaved in 30 years.  And why can’t the hair on my legs go grey?  It would diminish the frequency of shaving (i.e. It wouldn't show unless you got close up to my legs.) And I don’t see anyone getting that close to my legs any time soon.  My husband can’t see that close anymore so it doesn’t matter to him.  And with the silver popping up everywhere, I don’t feel so sexy anymore so you won’t see me sashaying up to some handsome man and saying, “Hey baby, what’s your sign?”

old grey mare

Couple that with the numbed up half of my mouth day at the dentist the other day and the subsequent drooling afterwards, and all I will see are the guys back ends as they run for the hills.  Which I can now see since I have gotten my new glasses.

Men look so sexy with their graying temples.  The silver streaks through their heads perfectly like it was done in the salon.  Women end up looking like the old grey mare. Then again, guys DO start growing hair EVERYWHERE ELSE other than on their heads.  So I guess justice is poetic at times…

I don’t know what I would rather have happen – these gradual “oh, my lord” moments like today, or waking up one morning to the new and fully aged me.  If I survived the heart attack that discovery would bring, then I could concentrate on acceptance and continue the rest of the process gracefully.  And pray God still likes me during the long and arduous road trip through sags, bags and wrinkles.

Nah.  The only prayer I am hearing right now is “Get Thee to the Salon.”  Amen to that!

Another Day in the Life of an Aging Woman!

I was at the dentist yesterday.  It seems that the enamel is wearing off of my teeth.  It is not due to lack of dental hygiene.  That is excellent.  Too excellent!  Am I brushing my gums and enamel right off?  Obsessive compulsive behavior of the teeth?  Okay, come on back down to reality, lady.

It is just another sign of aging.  Gums receding and that leads to exposure of softer enamel which lead to corrosion and exposure of roots....blah, blah, blah....  Roman (my dentist - whom I've known since he was in dental school with my sister's then boyfriend) said liken it to having a tree cut down with a hatchet.  I guess one day I would wake up and my tooth would fall over.  Timber!!!!  And probably while I was in an important meeting.  I would make an important point and my tooth would fly out of my mouth.

I have no idea what it means or how to deal with it.  I just followed Roman's orders and made an appointment.  He came at me with the needle and I'm like, "Hey, what is THAT for?"  He said I might want to numb the area since there was not much in between me and my tooth roots.  He could try to be careful and not numb me....  No thanks.  I am done being tough.  Dumb ass me finally realizes that I DON'T have to deal with the pain to show the world how tough of a woman I am.  (What were we ladies thinking back then when we choose no meds for our babys' deliveries????)

So he numbed me on one side of my mouth and then proceeded to chat with me while it was taking affect.  Have you ever tried to talk with only half your mouth?  For me, Miss Big Mouth, I need my full mouth to get my points across.  He gave me tissues to take with after it was all over just in case I drooled.

It only got numbier (is that a word?) as I drove home.  I started singing some songs that will be included in a performance next month (www.shecomesundone.com) and caught myself in the mirror singing with half a mouth.  I was horrified at the sight of a dragging left side and slurred words.  It's a wonder I didn't get pulled over for looking like a drunk driver!

Then later, eating dinner was a drag.  I couldn't friggin' chew.  Food was falling out of my mouth and my tongue wouldn't work.  My son thought I was hilarious as he watched me struggle.  I kept thinking of the years of me doing therapy programming at senior and rehab centers, where people struggled daily with strokes and other disabilities.  I had become old in that moment.  Someday I would need my son to wipe my mouth.  That stopped his laughter flat!

I bit the inside of my lip.  No pain.  I will feel that later I said.  So I took a nap.  Isn't that what aging folk do?  It took all my strength just to chew salmon!

Came to the conclusion today that I will fight this thing they call age.  Of course, with grace and dignity.  All kidding aside, I respect and admire all those who have gone before me.  They look and feel great and have a great attitude.  I will too.  After I stop complaining and whining.... and napping.

The Old Woman I Shall Become...

The old woman I shall become will be quite different from the woman I am now. Another I is beginning.... -George Sand

As I was contemplating old age, crone hood (as I am entering it) and the prospects of saggy everything, I came across this quote. And it made me think more on the ever approaching moment of crone hood.

Each chance, each feeling, each responsibility we commit our self to adds to the richness of our womanhood. I am no longer yesterday's woman. I am today's woman. And tomorrow I will also be today's woman, tomorrow! Yikes!

The weird thing is that I'll never be able to go back to her, without knowing, that she no longer meets the needs of the new woman emerging. I will look forward o these changes, to the older, wiser, (and hopefully sexier and a heck of a lot of fun) woman I am becoming. A woman who has perspective and wisdom to see the crap for what it is and let it go, to understand that the pain that is overwhelming right now is making way for this new lady of the world who will be a better version of the first.

If only I could trust and accept these lessons, to understand the words I have said myself - without the discomfort of pain, change cannot occur. Trust in the path I am on is what I need to believe daily. And look forward to the peace that comes with becoming.

Age, Hormones and all that Fuss

I was enlightened last night. As I near that “time” when one becomes an older woman and is no longer able to bear children, I have started to question my sanity. Is this emotion I am feeling due to normal life or can I blame it on menopause? Of course, I would love to not have to take any responsibility for my emotional state but never having been in this place before, I have questions, many of them. So I had drinks, many of them, last night, with my dear (older, if I may) friend, Diane. I confessed my fear of the time I have left to do all of the things I’ve always wanted to do, but never found the time to do. You know, while I still have my looks, my savvy (if I may), my brains, and the stamina of a 22 year old. Of course my 22 year old body could assist in this. I know it’s still in this older version of myself somewhere. And how did my boobs get bigger in the last year when I didn’t put on any more weight? But that’s another topic altogether…. I’ve always cursed the need that I have to do more, more, more. Why open one business when you can open two or three…..or a chain? Lately, my brain has turned up the volume and frenzy like never before. Last night, Diane and I drank a bottle of wine between us (okay, it WAS over a 4 hour period), and I went home at 12:45am to find myself wide awake with brain activity. What do I do when I grow up? Where do I want to be in 5 years? How do I increase sales? Can I expand the business into more locations? And the list goes on and on. So I continue to contemplate all of this. And Diane calmed my nerves by informing me that life is great for her now. She is doing all these new great things in her life. The frenzy is gone, her brain is clear and she is doing all the things she ever wanted to do. So there is hope. And of course I have another idea to bring to fruition to help ladies in my predicament. Maybe this brain frenzy isn’t that bad after all? eden Baubo's Garden