To age or not to age...

I've had an inner monologue going with myself for a few weeks now, debating whether or not I am old. I know that in the long run I am not, but that doesn't stop the dabate, nor does it stop young people from thinking that I am old - I am, after all, on the downward slope to 30, which I remembering promising myself at the ripe old age of 16 that I would NEVER be. So flying in the face of "fact" have been a few tidbits of my life grappeling to make themselves more important than they probably are, and making me officially old. For instance:

-My lower back hurts, which makes me look like a bit of a fogie when I'm trying to get up off the floor. It's like I twist wrong and am immediately immobalized and have to sit back down. JUST LIKE AN OLD PERSON. And I'm talking OLD, I don't see my parents doing this move! Then again, nor do I see them sit on the floor too often... perhaps this move is only too familiar and they've learned to avoid bringing it on by sitting on the floor. Parents? Comments?

- I have spotted, and Joe has pulled out, white hairs on my head. I knew having children would age me, but this seems a bit agressive if you ask me. You can be sure that my body did not ask me, I would not have given it permission.

- I am sprouting random facial hair. This is embarassing to admit, and it took me a long time to even tell Joe about it (though he broke my heart on our honeymoon by telling me I have a mustache when the sun hits it just right. That didn't make me feel old, though, that made me feel like one of the Tahitian women with mustaches/unibrows that Gauguin painted. It also made me feel like punching him for his brutal honesty). Anyway, there is a chin hair (I moonlight as a witch) that drives me insane because it always grows back, and recently it has started growing in WHITE. See? I'm ooooooolllllllddddd - bllaaaaaaahhhhhh! >-P I think I finally told Joe about it after I'd had Eli; by the time you've had 2 babies with your husband in the room, there's just nothing worth hiding. Nothing you CAN hide. HE'S SEEN IT ALL. There are definitely downfalls to your husband having seen it all - it seems like a silly waste of time to buy (or wear) lingerie, for example. And that's just sad. The bonus is that you don't have to be particularly coy when you have to poop, and you all remember what a hassle that could be when you were dating.

-I am often given to oversharing (have you noticed?). Old people can be like this, I think - when I visit Joe's grandma and ask, "how are you?" she answers, "Oh, honey, I'm just so terribly constipated these days." She then proceeds with the details, like talking about bowel movements is totally normal, when all I wanted was "fine!" Well, overshares like this have become a lot more normal for me! Maybe once you have babies (especially 1st babies) and your world revolves around them, and their world revolves around soiling diapers/carpets/new outfits with various colors and consistencies of fecal matter, it just isn't much of a leap to start talking about your OWN bathroom habits and nuances. At any rate, I can't be wrong about oversharing, I DID just mention my facial hair et cetera... just let me know if I'm wrong that this is an old-person thing.

- My knees hurt after extended periods in any position - standing, sitting Indian-style, or sitting straight-legged. My sad story: I had my feet propped up on the elbow rest of the front seat while I was in the back seat entertaining the boys on the way home from our vacation. Comfortable, non? Except that the next few days I thought someone had Tonya Harding'ed me in the kneecaps, they felt like they'd been broken out the back of my legs! I felt like I hobbled whenever I had to get up out of a chair. It was bad.

- Last, and most obviously (unless the sun's hitting my mustache just right, in which case THAT is the most obvious), our family is growing. I can't be a cute mom with one cute child in the front of one of those adorably small shopping carts they have at craft stores. No, now I am always SHOCKED when I go into a store and the shopping carts only have ONE SEAT. What the crap am I supposed to do with that? Don't you have carts with miniature cars attached to the front? What kind of baby-hating store IS this? I mentally note stores like Sam's Club where you can find a cart to comfortably seat 4 and still manage to get groceries into the basket. And to think I used to shop with a hand basket...

So anyway, that's me, feeling old. Don't worry about commenting that I'm NOT old, it's all give-and-take and it's just feelings. You can't contradict feelings, especially when I feel like my old kneecaps are going to fall off completely if I have to squat down one more time to pick up a kid off the floor.