Forty Two: The +, The -, And The WTH?

I am forty two years old. I have no problem telling people my age. I don't even stutter when I say it. I wasn't really fazed when I turned forty. Of course, I was feted to the extreme by my wonderful girlfriends, which sort of took out any sting that might have been involved.

Now for some reason I had a tremendously difficult time when I turned 37. I don't know why. There was just something about the way that it sounded when it tripped off my tongue that left a bitter taste in my mouth. So maybe after all of my icky feelings about 37, forty didn't seem so bad.

I'm not saying everything about being in my forties is wonderful, because it's not. But--even though I am just a couple of years into this decade--I have already decided that overall my forties are going well--better in fact than any decade since my first one!

When I was thinking about this the other day I was able to immediately tick off several positive things about being forty. But, as is the case with most things, for every positive there is a negative. And I have found that for every positive and every negative, sometimes there is a what the hell? Let me enlighten you:

Positive:
I am not nearly as concerned about what people think about me as I used to be back in my twenties or even thirties.

Negative:
Sometimes, as the mother of four children, it is presumed that my whole identity revolves around my children, because, hey, what else could I possibly have to contribute?

What the hell?:
I think that sometimes when you hit a certain age, you become invisible to lots of people (both individual and corporate). Hello, young sales clerks, advertisers (except for bone loss drugs and adult diapers), and Hollywood! I am talking to you!

Positive:
I have these great little lines around my eyes that crinkle when I laugh but have not yet turned into trenches.

Negative:
When did my pores get bigger?

What the hell?:
What in the world is going on with the wild chin whiskers that pop out of nowhere? And why, oh whywhywhywhy am I still getting zits???

Positive:
I no longer have to go out to bars and parties with my friends to think I am having a good time.

Negative:
I think that going to the grocery store by myself is a good time.

What the hell?:
Why did no one tell me that getting into my pajamas at 7:30 p.m. would feel so stinkin' awesome! (Seriously. Just hand over the Geritol. But do it before 7:15, because when jammie time comes around, I don't answer the door.)

Positive:
I am more sure of myself as far as fashion is concerned. I wouldn't say I'm trendy and I wouldn't say I care! I'm more of a classic dresser and this works better when you are 40 than it does when you are twenty.

Negative:
There apparently is no happy medium between low-waisted-show-you-all-of-my-muffin-top jeans and high waisted "mom" jeans.

What the hell?:
See "muffin top." After all those years of bearing children and finally getting to call my waist my own, I find out that I have an extra roll around the middle. I call her Ethel. I figure she's not going anywhere, so we might as well be on a first name basis.

Positive:
I can still exercise vigorously.

Negative:
It takes me longer to recover from vigorous exercise.

What the hell?:
Why in the world do my arms hurt after running? I wasn't running on my hands for crying out loud!

Positive:
I am wiser than I was twenty years ago.

Negative:
My children didn't know me twenty years ago, thus they have no idea how wise I am.

What the hell?:
At the rate that I am forgetting things, I will be stupid again in twenty years when my children are old enough to think that I am wise.