Peaked

Boy it's been awhile.  So long in fact that I just spent 25 minutes trying to figure out what the hell my username and password were to get back into this blog.  That's just sad.  But here we are.  So, something compelled me to get back to this today (actually I think it's been calling and I just keep stuffing it down).

When I started this blog I was on my way to 40.  I was in a race to see how many things I could try, improve or experience and fighting aging with everything I had.  NEVER SURRENDER! my motto.

My next birthday will be 45.  Oh, what a difference 4+ years makes.

I had a revelation this morning.  I've peaked.  Probably a really long time ago too.  Fuck.  My skin is getting papery around my eyes.  New crevices are appearing on what seems to be daily regularity around my mouth.  When I workout I feel slower and heavier, like I have a small roast strapped to each leg.  Intellectually I feel slower too.  I recently found a box in the basement of some papers I had written in grad school.  Goddammit I WAS really smart.

So that's it.  I'll never be as young looking as before.  I'll never have the athletic potential I did in my twenties and thirties.  I won't be winning any MENSA awards anytime soon.  By these measurements, I most certainly have peaked.

Choice time.  Do I dwell on what can't be changed?  Start booking my plastic surgery consultations?  Not very inspiring.  The second part of my revelation was that for every way I have peaked, there are ten ways that I haven't.  Here are a few highlights:

1.  I haven't peaked as parent.  I need to stay curious and open to learning about my kids; what makes them tick, what they need, what they DON'T need and who they can be in this world.

2.  I haven't peaked as partner.  Sooner than we think, our kids will be leaving us.  Alone.  I need to do the work to stay connected now, through the crazy times, so when they do go we're sad but also REALLY EXCITED.

3.  I haven't peaked as a friend, daughter, sister.  I simply do not put enough energy into cultivating my relationships.  Period.

4.  I haven't peaked as a human being.  The amount of time I contribute to society as a whole is pathetic.  I can give so much more and will be putting considerable energy towards this in the future.

I'm going to remember these things and the other things on my list every time I look in the mirror and feel deflated.  There will always be something I can improve, it just may not be my ass.

And a disclaimer, this is still my blog on aging, so I'll continue talk about things that make it a little less sucky, or old asses better.

If this is halfway...god help me.

I started making a mental list of my ailments over the past few months:

1. Kidney Stones

2. Scratched Cornea

3. Eye Floaters

4. Herniated Disc

5. Pre-arthritic knee & shoulder

Is this my list or Ed Asners? Good lord. 80 isn't looking so good.

I do feel much better after kicking that medicine to the curb. Not better physically but at least I'm not looking to give away my prized possessions and watching reruns of Six Feet Under anymore.

Ironically, the thing I miss the most is running. I have running dreams now like my Golden Retriever used to (I wonder if I twitch my paws in my sleep like he did?). I started Physical Therapy on Monday so we'll see how that goes.

In the meantime, I made an elliptical machine my bitch over the weekend. I guarantee that thing hadn't seen action like that recently. There's a reason people don't lose weight using those things - it takes SERIOUS effort to get your heart rate up high enough to do a decent interval.

My message to anyone reading this is please don't take your body for granted. USE it! TRAIN it! ENJOY it!

Wallowing

I know I haven't blogged for AGES, but I really need a place to place to vent, have a pity party (complete with a disco ball that rains tears and a laser light show that just flashes the word "FUCK" over and over), to speak my mind and basically get over myself. I'm sure I have no readers left at this point because I've been such a lame ass blogger, but maybe it's better that way.

If any of you are actually reading this and do know me and/or read my blog you KNOW how much fitness and training are a huge part of my life. Since November, I've been doing Crossfit, which has added a whole new dimension to my training. I've felt stronger and more fit than ever. Until a month ago.

All of a sudden I had numbness in my left hand and weakness in my left arm. Long, boring story short I have a herniated disk in my neck (C6). Not a HUGE deal medically, but psychologically a HUGE bummer. I can't do any exercise with any impact (no running, bouncing, jumping) and no lifting (sniff). When the doctor told me I could STILL do the elliptical machine I wanted to punch him in his face. Except I'm not supposed to punch either.

We're treating it conservatively right now with rest, anti-inflammatories and therapy. If that doesn't work, we go to more invasive options. He also prescribed a nerve medication for the numbness and tingling in my hand and arm called Gabapentin (Neuronitin). Side effects include: Suicide. I've taken it for three days and I think I'm done. Not liking the way it makes me feel (lethargic) and all around craptastic. Plus, it just masks the symptoms, does nothing to cure the condition. Our flex savings kicks in again in July so I'm going back to the acupuncturist.

The whole thing really makes me sad. And what does it say about me that I'm not happy unless I can do everything physical that I want to do when I want to do it? I had huge plans for the summer, was signed up for more events, wanted to do more surfing lessons, wanted to push myself to the next level in Crossfit. Now I just feel lost and in limbo.

I think about soldiers coming back from overseas without limbs, people fighting chronic illnesses etc. and it makes me feel like the biggest whiner in the world. I know this too shall pass, one way or another. But maybe it's time for a little more balance in my life? Or to find a few other things besides working out that bring the same level of satisfaction? I thought about going to the local animal shelter and seeing if I could walk dogs. That sounds pretty great :)

It is the last summer I have with my older son before he goes to middle school. Maybe this is my message from the universe to soak him up? On that note, we're off to the wolf preserve. Woof.

Beautiful

I know that I wax on about stupid, vain & trivial things in this blog A LOT. I'm really not a negative person or as cynical or shallow as I may come across sometimes. Humor (and alcohol) are just my coping mechanisms. Laughing about hairs growing out of my --insert inappropriate & horrifying location here-- is just my way of dealing with the fact that things beyond my control are happening. To my body. All the time.

I love life. I really do believe that growing older is a privilege (thank you Laura Linney for those words). But don't worry , I WILL still make fun of it a little along the way. But I will never, ever forget to be grateful. Thank you Alice.

Redemption

I was just informed that part of me is womanly charming by my 10 year old.

That part would be my lower leg, beneath the knee. I'll take it.

The Sexiest Woman Alive

My boys have reached that point that they notice when I'm naked. My older son especially. I make a conscious effort now not to be naked when they're around, but sometimes it just happens and I try not to make a big deal about that either. The girl raised by wannabe hippies in me still feels like our bodies are lovely, natural things that we shouldn't have to be embarrassed about. Until your ten year old sees your naked boob profile that is.

The other day I was getting dressed and my son walked in my room to ask me a question and I was completely nude-o. I casually turned sideways and continued putting on my underwear. His eyes drifted immediately to my chest region. After cocking his head like an inquisitive puppy he lets me know the following tidbit of info:

"From the side you kind of look like a man who needs to jog more."

Are you there God...

It's me, not Margaret. I just got my over-40-period.

W. T. F. ?

The ledge: Talk me off it please.

I just pulled these out of my head. These are the first from the Northern Hemisphere (ahem). If it weren't 2 p.m. and I didn't have to teach a spin class at o'dark thirty tomorrow, I would start drinking now. I know this is stupid. I know this vain. But I'm still freaking out. Psst.....hey aging, FUCK YOU.

My morning face

My five year old let me know on Halloween that the neighbors had a jack 'o lantern that looked like "my morning face." Meaning me. My face.

I couldn't wait to see it. I couldn't wait so much it took me until a half hour ago to walk down there and look. Here it is:

When I asked him what part of it reminded him of me, he replied "all of it."

How funny would it be if I asked the neighbors for it, cut the bottom out, and was wearing it on my head when he came down for breakfast tomorrow? Muahh ahhh ahhh!

Stay tuned, please.

Hey all.

First, thank you to everyone who posted a comment and to those who thought about posting a comment but then had real life tear them away from the computer to wipe a bum, cook dinner, work, walk a dog or maybe you just had to pee and then forgot. I get it.

I WILL be back to the blog. I actually feel like I have quite a bit to say. I just can't say it now because I want to be mysterious. Not really, I'm just super tired.

But I will leave you with this current meditation I'm having on aging:

Butt hair. More. WHY???


Discuss.

A moment in time

He knew I was working, so he crept in quietly.  He made himself comfortable on the sofa to my left.  With restraint that comes most difficultly to a nine year old boy, he watched me type away without interruption.

I could tell he was staring at me.  Studying me.  I remember doing that with my parents.  Really looking at them when they didn't realize what I was doing.  It's almost flattering, like being appreciated as art.

Finally, he couldn't stand the silence.

"Did you know you have two chins?"

These eyes

These eyes are cryin’
These eyes have seen a lot of loves
But they’re never gonna see another one like I had with you.

p.s.  because I'm old and blind now.

Sometime in the last year or so I started having intense, searing headaches every night.  Of course this meant only one thing.  Brain tumor.  The fact that I was squinting at my 52 inch flat screen TV should have been a little bit of a hint that it could have something to do with my peepers.  So I went to the eye doctor and had my first eye exam in years.  The verdict:  I'm screwed.  I needed two different prescriptions, one for distance and one for reading.  This meant two pairs of very expensive glasses.  When I came home in them my older son had this to say, "mom, no offense, but you look ugly in those glasses."  (I've tried to explain to him that just saying "no offense" prior to saying something does not mean that the person will actually not take offense, especially if you say something really awful to them, but that seems to be sinking in about as much as don't pee on the seat).

Cut to present day.  Or a few months ago when I started hitting parked cars.  The first one was in a Trader Joe's parking lot.  I left a note and a very grateful woman called my house before I even got home to inform my husband of the day's events.  Then I did it again about a month ago (yes, I left ANOTHER note).  I mentioned this to my eye doctor and she was concerned so today I did a "field of vision" test.  Basically, you put a patch on one eye, look into a white box, follow a red light with your eye and then hit a buzzer every time you see a green light on the screen in your peripheral vision.  Each eye takes 8 minutes.  My score was PERFECT.  Bottom line, apparently I've just become a horribly shitty driver.  In fact, I'm such a bad driver that today my kids and I were going to a picnic and I was parking the van on the street and heard a terrible scraping/crunching noise.  I just assumed it was me.  After I stopped swearing, I realized it was the woman in the Mercedes across the street from me - PHEW!

Now I'm trying contacts, which is a whole post in itself.  But I'll save that for another day.

p.s. I have no idea what's going on with the font on this post, but I can't even drive, how am I supposed to figure this out?

Zits B Gone!

If you've been reading this blog since its inception, you know about my battle with the zits, and the picking of the zits, and the subsequent scarring of the face, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...  Well my pretties, the tide has turned.

Just to recap, when I turned about 35 or 36 I started breaking out like a teenage dude on a diet of Munchos and Snickers.  I went to the dermatologist late in January.  She gave me a prescription for Renova (cosmetic strength tretinoin) and Finacea (azelaic acid).  Both are topical creams that I use once a day.  The Renova was EXPENSIVE but with a $50 rebate and putting it through our flex savings plan it wasn't so bad, and it's lasted a long time (and I still have quite a bit left).

At first, my face looked like ass.  It got really dry and even kind of scaly in places.  I only use the Finacea on my "problem" areas (around the mouth, side of the face) because it exacerbates the dryness.  But I kept with it because it seemed like it was making the breakouts less severe.  When I do get a zit, it's not as cystic feeling, it's more on the surface.

But just recently, I've actually been looking in the mirror and thinking "hey, my skin doesn't look like ass!"  The little twist with Renova is that along with helping the zit factor, it's also one of the only proven wrinkle reducers.  That's not what my doctor prescribed it for, but um, I'm not complaining.  My skin regimen also includes washing my face with Aveda "Enbrightenment" cleanser and I really like Oil of Olay Regenerist with a Touch of Foundation in the morning.  If it's a sunny day I also use MAC prep & prime moisturizer (SPF 50). 

If you have sensitive skin, Renova may be too harsh, especially for everyday use.  You also have to be diligent with the sunscreen.

Now of course after writing all of this I'm going to wake up with a volcanic eruption between my eyebrows tomorrow morning.  JINXED!

You better run, you better take cover.

To the silver strangers appearing down under:

You are not welcome here.  Please hand the land back over to the aboriginal population or you will find yourselves the victims of complete deforestation.

Faster than I can say "Gillette."

Chompers

I'm all for non-invasive cosmetic procedures that take years off your looks.  One thing I'm surprised more people don't think about is their teeth.  Dingy teeth make you look old and well, dingy.  There are so many products out there to help whatever your budget.

Here's my rating of what I have tried over the years on a scale of 1-10:

Crest White Strips:  6+.  Pretty good results, not a shocking difference for me but the price is affordable ($30-$40).

Go Smile:  2.  Completely a victim of a slick informercial coupled with temporary insanity and vodka.  I can't remember what it cost, but whatever it was, it was 100% more than it should have been.

Zoom Whitening:  7+.  I did this before my 20th high school reunion through my dentist.   I expected more of a "wow" effect.  It was good, but not great.  I would have been pretty bummed out about spending the cash (it was a chunk - $400) if it hadn't been for my dentist's policy of also making a tray mold for touch ups.  Which leads me to:

Professional Tray Mold and gel: 9.  I felt like I got the best results from the tray.  If I were to only have done this part it would have been half the cost at my dentist ($200).

Whatever you do, I hope you don't end up with teeth like these from the ad on my facebook page.  

WILLLBURRRR!  Talk about photoshop gone wrong.  Someone give this poor woman a carrot.

Thanks a mil Dougie Howser!

I had the unsettling experience last week of going to a new doctor that turned out to be younger than me.  This is no good.  HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?  I'm 28.  I will always be 28.  That's "my" age.  You know that age in your head that never changes regardless of how far your ass has fallen?

Part of my daily battle with aging includes all the stuff you're supposed to do to stay youngy like yoga.  Of course when you combine an addictive personality with yoga what do you get?  Vinyasa syndrome.  No, that's not really a thing, but I have it.  For those of you who don't do yoga, a "vinyasa" is like a push-up on steroids, because you do it backwards using the weight of your body as resistance.  Apparently I went a bit overboard with the vinyasa-ing and ended up with a really sore shoulder.  After a three weeks of rest, ice and going to the chiropractor I decided I had better consult an orthopedist because there was this squishy, sore spot on top of my shoulder that wouldn't go away.

So I go to the shoulder guy.  He bounces into the room all fresh and dimply.  He's blond, tall, cute (in a Dougie kind of way, not a McSteamy/Dreamy way) and YOUNGER THAN ME.  He does the doctor meet and greet thing, "you from around here, go to school here, etc.".  I say no, I'm actually from Oregon.  He says, "oh, are you a Duck?"  Embarrassing answer #1, "no, I'm a Beaver." Nice.  Of course Doogie McCutie also went to Notre Dame just for a little added humiliation.

So he does the exam, completely ignoring the lovely cami I had on under my granny sweater and sits down to give me his diagnosis.  I'm expecting an athlete's diagnosis.  Something along the lines of "tendinitis due to over-jockishness" or a "torn ligament due to extreme yoga-goddessness."  But that's not what Doogie tells me.  Oh no.  He looks at me with those sparkly, spectacle-free blue eyes and says with a smile "you may have a little arthritis in that shoulder." Ouchy Doogie.  Ouchy.  I humbly put my granny sweater back on and skulk out of the office giving him a thanks but no thanks on the offer of a cortisone shot.

Obviously I'm making light of this but it's actually starting to bother me.  My grandmother had horrible arthritis in her hands that kept her from enjoying many of the things she loved in life like knitting.  My father is an avid cyclist and just had a double hip replacement due to arthritis in those joints.  Is this really starting to happen to me now?  Exercise is one of the few healthy things in my life that brings me joy.  The shoulder wasn't the first, nor I'm sure the last, body part to fail me.  I don't run anymore because of pain in my knees and hips.  I do only low-impact exercise like spinning and eliptical machines for cardio.  It makes me so goddamn angry that I'm willing to do the work and my body isn't willing to come along.

I left Doogie's office and headed straight for the supplement aisle of Whole Foods to buy every gd root or wort I'd ever heard of that is supposed to help inflammation.  I bought turmeric, fish oil, ginger and some JointMD stuff.  I'll let you know how it goes or if I grow a third nipple.  If anyone out there has any other suggestions, bring 'em on!

Oh and that squishy thing?  It's a cyst.  Doogie told me that if it gets bigger, and I quote, "unsightly", that I could come back and he would reassess it.  Yeah, that's gonna happen.

Rants, Raves and Reality

I'm almost 40.  There I said it.  I'm in the twilight of my thirties.  Screw that, MY THIRTIES ARE ALMOST FUCKING GONE.  I will be 40 in 323 days and counting and I'm having some issues with it.  I don't mean to sound negative, but in my mind, 40 isn't the new anything, it's just 40.

I watch these amazing women around me turn forty with grace and acceptance.  They are better women than me.  I simply DON'T WANT TO.  It's not just about the surface stuff (although a shit load of it is).  Things are changing all around me.  My body.  My mind.  My children.  My world.  Some of these changes are annoying to say the least and on bad days downright terrifying.  

I biatch about all of this to any girlfriend willing listen, and if there's wine involved all the better.  Being able to vent and moan and snivel over a good Zinfandel (or a beer and a shot of tequilla) is life-giving for me.  I'm addicted to facebook and change my status so regularly I'm sure my "friends" think I'm a nut job.  That's part of the reason I've been thinking about writing this blog forever.  I blog in my mind constantly.  I also write stand-up comedy in the shower.  I have a new thought/idea/joke about every 1.23 seconds and am egocentric enough to think that someone else just HAS to hear about it.

So how can I bring all these phenomenon together?  The almost forty thing plus the need to overshare like I do with my girlfriends?  I can blog.  And maybe I can invite new friends to the blog n' bitch.  And maybe I can create a community of other mamas (mama = anyone hovering around the 40 mark and having some issues with it, even if you have a penis).  Who knows.

So here's what this blog is going be about:  My daily issues with aging, child-rearing, working, living, managing my anxieties (realities) and the things I've found that work for me (raves) and the shit that doesn't (rants).  Much of this blog will seem shallow, vain, whiny and trite.  It will seem this way because it will be shallow, vain, whiny and trite.  And if you don't like it, bite me and start your own blog (or just don't read mine).  But hopefully some of it will be useful, thought provoking, idea generating or at least make someone's day with a good laugh.  My dream is to have a safe place where friends can come to discuss all the stuff that's happening at this crossroads called forty.

It's going to be a big girl/big boy blog.  I like my four to seven letter expletives.  I'm bound to talk about my wee wah at some point.  In other words, read at your own risk.