You guys. I’m getting old. Here are some reasons why this is becoming painfully evident.
My joints crack. I swear it’s one big crack party every time I’m rocking Bubba to sleep, going up or down the stairs, and pretty much any other time I’m walking. I inherited this from my mother most likely. As kids, we always knew when mom was coming, and to stop the bad stuff we were doing, because her and her cracking ankles were on the way (Sorry Mother Loops, but it’s true). I promised myself that I would NEVER let my joints do that.
Redhead’s 18 year-old mind: 0 Redhead’s nearly 30 year-old body: 1
Generally when I look at my face in the mirror I don’t think I look like I’m in my last year as a twenty-something. I’ve convinced myself that I don’t look any different than I did ten years ago (minus of course the lingering evidence of having gestated and birthed two children). Then I look at my face in the mirror alongside Bosco and Bubba, and my mouth pulls back in horror. Here’s a tip. If you want to help your skin look soft, supple, and smooth, never look in the mirror when you’re holding the essence of youth on your hip.
Redhead’s 18 year-old mind: 0 Redhead’s nearly 30 year-old body: 2
I try to keep myself feeling youthful by doing things like pilates and yoga (realistically I just dabble in the practice once a month or so). Vibrant famous people are always getting their picture taken fresh from a yoga work-out. If it works for them, it can work for me. However, when I realize that Bubba can do a better downward facing dog than me, I’m tempted to just scrap the whole thing.
Side note: Against my better judgment I am now a twitterpated fool, tweeting over on twitter. If you want to follow me I go by the name @ramblingsarah, that’s Mrs. if you’re nasty. Leave me a comment with your twitter name and I will most assuredly follow you, to the moon and back.