Warning: the content of this post may not be appropriate for young children and is definitely not comprehendable by grown men.
So, Friday is my birthday. Am I excited? No, not particularly. Am I depressed? Nope, not entirely. I feel actually...um...apathetic. But I am taking the time to notice some particulars that occur in a woman's late thirties that a mother really should have prepared a girl for. These particulars mostly have to do with the growing amount of "stuff" and "products" required for a girl to look good. I remember in my early twenties, I didn't even own a makeup case. Why? Because on a very special occasion I might put on a little mascara. You hardly need a case for that. Clear, creamy, non-wrinkled skin required very little maintenance and the occasional "glow" of pregnancy (which I experienced all too often) was enough to make an attentive husband comment on how young and beautiful he thought I was. Ahhh, those were the days. Now, it seems, really all of the sudden, my makeup case has become obese. Full of foundations and eye creams, any product that claims to reduce wrinkles, cover age spots and brighten those dark eye circles, believe me I own it. Makeup has become my standby, there is never a day without it. In fact, on the rare occasion that I am running late for work, and dare step into the operating room wearing only my own complection, I am immediately met with, "Are you okay? You don't look like you feel good."
How about hair? Remember those early twenties again with me girls...dark, natural locks, curled and styled with ease, certainly no need for color, foil, dryers and touch ups. Now, I have them scheduled on my calender like clock work, without them...lots of gray, and a mom who says, "can we talk about your hair?"
Next, lets talk about the "boobage"...you girls know exactly what I'm talking about. Gone are the days when nothing more was needed than a simple brasierre. Now, many years later, and five breastfed children, the girls are in need of a huge amount of help. Recently, I ventured out to my local "we can lift them and make them look good again" bra shop. I walked in and said to the sales clerk (she was about 18), "could you measure me? I seem to be having some, you know (wink) girl trouble." She was glad to help and hopefully the experience did not traumatize her so much that she will decide childbirth is not for her...but anyway, I digress...So, she measures me and then recommends I try the latest, very greatest, miraculous push-up bra. She brings it to me and the site of it was truly amazing. I think it actually has breasts in it before you even put yours in it! So, I try it on and am instantly sold. Like singing from the mountain top with my hands extended, spinning, sold. So of course I buy 2, drop a small car payment at the register and head home.
The next day, I get up and head of to work, with my girls at full attention. I must admit, it was somewhat anti-climactic, no turning heads, no wind machine blowing my hair as I walked down the hall with people staring and saying, "wow, who's that girl?" Nope, just pretty much the same old, same old, with the exception that by noon I had a whopping headache from having my girls jacked up so high. At lunchtime I had to take 2 excedrin and put on my sports bra...
We took a trip for Thanksgiving, and I got to spend the day shopping with one of my closest friends. When she got in the car, we laughed and visited, drank coffee and headed to the mall. "I want to get some jeans for my birthday", I told her. She was glad to go along. I went into my favorite store and started trying on some jeans. Each time I would emerge from the dressing room I would ask her for her honest opinion. "Those are too tight", she said. "Really?" I argued. "Definitely" she said, "they give you fold over booty". Ewwww....nobody wants fold over booty. But really, this thirty something booty is already folded over. It's not the jeans. A few more pairs and she chimes, "Those are it, they make your booty look gooood." "Really?" I asked, "are you sure?" "Yea" she said, "and where the heck did you get those boobs?" I then informed her about my new bra. "You need to buy a lot more of those", she added.
See? I told you it was miraculous...