Friday, February 28, 2014

Cynthia is 39!!!

As I enter the final year of my 30's I think the whole "I'm getting old" feeling has finally caught up with me. I've never worried about age and think it silly that people lie about or refuse to tell their real age. But that's just me. Turning 30 didn't phase me one iota. I was 6 months pregnant with Solana and spent a happy evening at home with Dave and the cats. Maybe we went out for dinner. I don't remember. But now that I'm pushing 40 I'm starting to notice my skin and hair changing. And this winter has been a doozey for exercise. Running just hasn't happened. My waist is definitely thicker than it was this time last year and I find myself wondering if I'll ever wear a bikini again. (And I realize that may be incredibly vain, inciting snorts galore, but I've always assumed that I could easily wear a bikini until I turned 50 so it is significant to me.) As much as I'd like to stubbornly cling to my "I don't care about my age" attitude I must reluctantly admit that I'm feeling a little self-conscious about how I look and about how Dave sees me. I find myself running to put makeup on before he gets home from work and fastidiously plucking my eyebrows. Maybe these are good things? My mom used to shake her head in defeat at the way I used to go out as a teenager. I didn't feel the need to do myself up and was perfectly ok with that. And, as an adult, I usually don't give a fig about how I look during the week. Pony tail, clean face, shorts and a t-shirt (yoga pants and t-shirt in the winter) have always been good enough. But this winter I find myself wearing sweats because my jeans are a tad too tight and looking into the mirror speculatively rather than admiringly.

It's an odd feeling, getting older. I'm surprised at how it snuck up on me. Fortunately for me, I'm not yet wallowing in the depths of despair. At this point I guess I'm just a littler perplexed at this new attitude trying to take hold in me. Thank goodness for this blog, though. Self-awareness can be my sword to fight for the old (or rather, young) Cyndi. And we just joined the YMCA so I hope to get back into fighting shape soon. Maybe this was a bad winter to turn 39 - one in which cabin fever and inactivity are at an all-time high.

With all that being said, 39 was actually a wonderful birthday celebration. Dave took me out on a fantastic date night to my favorite restaurant. We had a lovely 2-hour dinner alone together and then we went to the movies. That was Saturday. On Monday, my actual birthday, he and the girls presented me with sweet cards, hugs, kisses, and my new serger (gifted from them and my parents). I can't wait to get started on it!!
 My handsome husband, who never has to worry about looking "older", 
since he just gets even better looking with time.
 All is not lost. I can still manage a good picture. ;-) Even if it's with my first attempt at a fancy eye shadow, new mascara, and first time wearing blush in…oh…ever. LOL!

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