Top Five Reasons I Love Getting Older, a Top Five List by Leslie Q.

When I was in graduate school working on my Masters Degree, I used the survey method to collect data.  More than 150 surveys were sent out to teachers across the state, and I was excited to analyze the results across a wide variety of variables.  On each survey, I asked the respondent to state his/her age.  Because I was surveying teachers, more than 85% of those answering the questions were women.  And, as a young woman, I was appalled by how many women refused to share their age.  Some wrote, “29….okay, okay, 37,” or “50+,” and several left me with this: “??”

I know these women were trying to be cute or funny, but really they just messed up my data.  I vowed then, as a 22-year-old, never to be shy or embarrassed about my age.  And I have stayed true to this promise, even as I am about to turn 34.  In fact, I enjoy getting older, and I’ve outlined the top five reasons below.

1.    I know my body.  In my youth I never knew how I would feel on any given day.  I have been blessed with extraordinary health for most of my life (no allergies, no major diseases or ailments, etc), so I always felt pretty well.  But I never paid attention to what my body was telling me.  As I’ve aged and taken more notice, I learned quite a few things.  I know that if I feel a little bit dizzy, I can eat a spoonful of peanut butter and feel better in ten minutes.  I know that when I get overly weepy at sappy commercials, I am about two days away from a visit from Aunt Flo.   If my knees ache, I cut back on my runs for a week.  If my throat hurts early in the morning, I know a cold will follow two days later.  Life is so much easier and certainly more predictable.

2.    I know my mind.  Much like I am able to listen to what my body is telling me, I love how in sync I am with my own head.  I know that if I am acting short with my husband or my daughter, it must mean I have a big event coming up and am preoccupied with preparations.  When I am upset with my husband or another family member, I can articulate what is wrong, and we can solve the problem.  Not so in my 20’s.  Back then, I was never able to identify exactly what was plaguing my mind, but I know myself so much better now.  When my child is acting crazy because she is overly hungry or overly tired, as her mother I can instantly identify (and fix) the problem.  How refreshing to be able to do that for myself as well.

3.    I care less.  I did something last week that I never thought I would do:  I went to Firestone to fix a broken blinker while I was still in my pajamas.  With no makeup.  But I didn’t care!  First, allow me to explain that I am one of those lucky mothers who is fortunate enough to drop her kid off at preschool in pajamas (I do not have to exit the car.)  On my way back, I knew the Firestone would be on my right.  Going to my house to get dressed would mean that later, not only would Firestone be significantly more crowded, but also, I’d have to make two left turns and two u-turns to get in and out.  I also knew that in two days I’d be leaving on a four-hour road trip, so getting my blinker fixed seemed like the safe thing to do.  Finally, I knew that had I needed repairs totaling more than $30, I would have had to look presentable, since I usually flirt and get discounts (shameless, but true).  I would never have deigned to look so pathetic in my 20’s, but at a ripe 33, I don’t care anymore.*

4.    I can keep normal hours.  I never understood why, in college, we had to wait until 11:00 pm to go out.  Even back then, I wanted to party from 8:00 pm-12:00 am and still be fully functional on Sunday.  When I was working and putting my husband through graduate school, we enjoyed several late nights (and, let’s be honest, I taught a few classes feeling less than 100%).  Even on our nights in, we would stay up until 2:00 am watching television.  But still I ached to follow my early-to-bed-early-to-rise mantra.  I know this is how I am internally wired but I am finally able to embrace my new schedule without feeling like an outsider, and I’ve never felt better.

5.    I am wiser.  I used to be a perfectionist.  When I was 12 years old I had a loom on which to make potholders.  I was great at the weaving, but I could never unhook the edges and finish an entire potholder without a complete meltdown.  And when it came to wrapping presents, I would get frustrated at any air bubbles trapped in the paper or any edges not perfectly aligned.  But as I’ve aged, these things matter less and less to me.  In fact, I send all of my gifts out with sloppy edges (of course, I have a 4-year-old I can claim helped me wrap:), and when I do sewing projects, the undersides of all my hems are full of strings.  My husband (a perfectionist to the ultimate degree) calls me “Ms. 80%,” since most of what I do is about 80% complete.  But I’m okay with that.  I can sense that if something is going to make me upset, it just isn’t worth it.  This is something that took me years to learn but will add years to my lifetime. 

*As an aside, while waiting at Firestone for my car, I picked up a copy of Harper’s Bazaar, a magazine that is way out of touch with my practical lifestyle.  ($1,000 for a shirt?  Not happening.)  There was an entire spread on how trendy pajama tops are these days.  I immediately felt vindicated.  Score one for the old lady!!

**Many thanks to Leslie!  She almost makes me feel great about owning my 32 years!  Do you have a Top Five list you’d like to share with us?  I’d love to post it to Charlotte Mom Favorites!  Send me your idea or list to: katie.harding@gmail.com!**