My mind says I’m in my 20’s, my body says ‘Yeah Right!’

‘Here’s where you’re going to fall out with me.’ said Martin the nice optician who was conducting my eye test.

That sentence didn’t bode well.  Bravely I told him to fire away, hit me with his best insult.

‘At your age Carmel, you would expect to see some decline in your eyesight.’

At my age!  How very dare he! I’m only a young one at the mere age of ….. well age is just a number and lets not get all caught up on silly numbers now.

To make matters worse it wasn’t the first time that a man wearing a white coat had cast similar dispersions to my apparently ageing ego.  When pregnant with Nate, my second baby, I had just hit a big milestone birthday, the big 40.  I was sitting in my consultant’s office and having done the usual initial examinations he declared,

‘Well Carmel, with all due respect you are not 21 anymore.’

With all due respect, you’re very brave to say such a thing to a hormonal pregnant woman!  I still think I deserve a medal that I only smiled in response to that.

So in addition to liberally applying eye cream morning, noon and night in my brave attempt at freezing time,  I also tell myself often that  40 is the new 30.  And if you are 50 reading this, well don’t worry, 40 is the new 50 and so on.

But if I’m honest with myself, I can’t ignore the one or two tell-tale signs that suggest Father Time is nipping at my heels.

For example, why is it that I can never find my car keys or phone any more.  I can blame my children for hiding them and of course Amelia and Nate are sometimes the guilty culprits, but I do seem to have a habit of forgetting where I last put them down.  And following my recent eye test and the conclusion that the old lamps are not doing so well for up close and personal work, I will shortly be rocking a rather cool pair of Karen Millen specs when reading or writing. So I suppose I can add my glasses to the missing phone and keys brigade!

And lately, I’ve been getting twinges in my hip.  Mr H declared he also suffers with the same complaint and he thinks its hilarious to joke about buy one get one free deals on hip replacements for the both of us.

As for the evil square box that answers to the name ‘feckin weighing scales’ what is it about turning 40 that means I can now actually put weight on overnight, despite living on lettuce leaves and water.  (ok, maybe the odd glass of wine).  That’s a fact.  God be with the days when I could eat what I wanted, drink gallons of wine and still squeeze into my size 10 skinny jeans.  God I miss the metabolism of my 20’s.

And get this!  When I organised the music for my sister in law’s 40^th birthday party earlier this year I asked the DJ to play some 80’s and 90’s music.  He helpfully told me that he always played the golden oldies for us lot.  Feckin’ cheek!  Us lot still have some life in us.  Just not after 10pm on a week night.

And as for the wireless referring to 90’s music as classic rock. ‘Nuff said.

And just before I go and look for my missing phone (I’m not lying, its gone again!) I’ll leave you with this little pearl of funny wisdom………..