Dreena and Paul

Recently I told Dear Hubby that I don’t feel my age.  I can’t believe I’m  a 53 year old.  On the inside, I’m like 32.  He said on the inside he is still a teen-ager.  I knew that.  I tell people I have 5 kids but everyone knows it’s really 6.

The advantage of being an older parent is that it keeps you young.  I have a friend my exact age who has grandkids the ages of my children.  She is a grandma!  She doesn’t run anymore, she makes posts on Facebook about red hats, she bakes cookies, she forgets things.  I have to exercise every morning because I still have to lift 100 pounds of preschoolers several times a day.  I bake cookies too — but to pack in lunch boxes because I can’t bear to fill my kids full of preservatives and corn syrup.  I don’t feel grandmotherly.  Most of the time . . .

I hurt my hip when I was running.  I’m not sure what happened.  I didn’t notice the injury when it occurred but for days I have walked around with a sore hip.  In attachment therapy with our 5 year old, I had to sit on the sofa instead of the floor because I was afraid I couldn’t get up again.  It hurts worst when I’ve been sitting so I walk around all crouched over.  At my daughter’s ball tournament, I stood for an entire game because it was too hard to keep standing up from a chair.

Who hurts their hip?  I’ll tell you who, old people!  I think I have it about worked out . . . it just has a bit of residual soreness now.

It all served as an important reminder.  While I feel young on the inside, I am actually middle aged.  I have to take better care of myself than when I was younger.  I can’t afford to suddenly run twice as far as I did the week before because I’m more prone to injury and injury recovery is slower than it used to be.

Am I ready for the rocking chair?  No.  But some realities do require my attention.  Thanks for the wake up call, Life!