Coming to grips with...age

There has been a lot on my mind lately and age is one of them. I turned thirty last August and really didn't have a problem with it. Now that thirty-one is not to far away, I'm thinking a little deeper on the subject for a few reasons.

I went to the doctor for my woman's appointment. It had been three years and finally the post hospital actually called me to set up an appointment. A few things came to me about this. First that it had been three years and I didn't even notice. Then while I was doing the maintenance to get ready for my appointment it seemed harder than usual. Something about going to that appointment makes me need to shave my legs. Besides needing to be a master at yoga to succeed at this feat, I also need a riding mower to get at the back forty acreage. While I am shaving the back of my legs, way up there, I notice a dark patch that would make a hobbit proud if only he had it on the tops of his feet. Just one patch on each leg, not only am I grossed out but I am now distressed by the thought of the rest of my leg hairs turning dark.

Anyway, I survived the trimming of the hedge and I get to the doctors. She used terms like, "you're at the age where..." and they weren't followed by anything complementary like "you could seriously injure yourself surfing and recover just fine." No, this was supplement talk. Calcium, bone, you don't want to break a hip, now do you, talk.

Also, recently I started taking fiber, since nothing works anymore. So now I've added calcium to the regimen. Vitamins, Vitamin C, Calcium with Vitamin D, and Fiber. There are so many ways one vitamin can stop the absorption of another so they all have to be taken at separate times, with food or I feel like puking. Now all I need is one of those plastic pill separator boxes with a calculator watch with the alarm set for every four hours to remind me to take my pills to help along the transformation.

Then to complete the picture: Punx and DD have passed the swim test at the Y so they get a bracelet to wear that means they can swim anywhere in the pool and without me being there but Bug isn't there yet. The other day, DD went swimming while I was working out and when I was done, Bug and I joined her. The day camp was also in the pool. All three of us were at the deep end side when the day camp was starting to get out. That's when the lifeguard finally noticed Bug at the side of the pool, throwing things in for me to dive down and get. She walks up to him and starts telling him he can't be at this part of the pool and must go. He doesn't go. I finally manage to swim over and look at her like, what? She looks at me and says, "He doesn't have a bracelet." I say, "He can't be here with me?" She replies, "He doesn't have a bracelet," I say with more feeling, "He can't be here with ME?!" Something in my tone finally got her to stop and look at me. She just stared and me and finally goes, "Are you the mom?" I'm like, yeah, I didn't add that the older girl next to him was also mine and that the oldest was at cub scout day camp, that stuff never seems to help. She looks at me and goes, "I thought you were with the swim camp. I thought you were like 13 or 14."

There are many things wrong with this to me. While I don't mind being thought younger, heck, even half my age, that's great. How sad that someone with my body type, ie big fatty, can be confused with someone that young. And the cut-off for Y-camp is 11. Whatever, I'll take it, once it stops, I'll be sad.

It's just really hard to reconcile all the differences between still being mistaken for a teenager, still acting like a child a good portion of the time, while my body ages just to spite me.