At some point the line was crossed, and I want to know when. When did this happen to me? Today, I was eating lunch at Moe's when a group of high schoolers came in. I'm not talking 5 or 6 here. I'm talking at least 50 by the time we were done. I don't know why they were all there, nor do I really care. What I am concerned about is that, suddenly, I was old! I mean, it's ridiculous really, how old I'm still feeling. "I'm not old. I'm 37." (Okay, i'm 26 but I couldn't resist the urge to reference Monty Python.) Let me say that my intention is not to make older friends and family feel like cavemen, but to ponder this sad and simple fact of life: When did I go from feeling like this...
Seriously, those are high school freshman!
to this?!!!
Sure, I see high school kids all the time but never in such large quantities that you can compare and say, "Good Lord! They all look that young!" Somewhere, just in the last couple of years, I've begun to see myself as a different person. This should have been immediately obvious to me when I first realized that I was still unconsciously saying I was 25 when I'm, in fact, about to turn 27? Did I forget my age? Is the pregnancy amnesia more severe than I was lead to believe? I mean, honestly folks, I have to stop and think about how old I am. What's with that? No matter how many times I tell myself, "You're 26, Amanda. 26. Almost 27," there's a little voice of defiance deep within shouting back, "25!" I can almost see her there, with her arms folded, glaring back at me.
I know, in the grand scheme of things, I'm not old by a long shot, but man have I been smacked in the face with this today. Some may suggest that maybe it's because I'm now a mom, but what about teen mothers? Do they feel like they're not high schoolers anymore when they still are? I don't think it's because I'm a mother. I think it's because I'm officially closer to 30 than to 20. So, now I'm wondering, will I be hit with this feeling each time I cross the halfway point in another decade? 36, 46, 56?
I can only hope I age as gracefully as my mother or ya know, Jane Seymour. (I had to choose a fellow ginger, ya know...even if it's not natural.)
58!!! That woman right there is fifty-eight!!!
