I turned 28 yesterday. The big 3-0 is closer than ever, and I'm slowly coming to terms with it. Somehow, for the last ten years or so, I've been able to ignore or forget the fact that I am getting older. It's as if I left for college at age 17 and have hovered in my late teens/early twenties ever since. I could probably go on believing I'm still 21, too, if it weren't for all those dang people around me getting older. Moving to Ithaca and getting to know the new crop of PhD wives, I feel like I'm still the same age as they are. Then I remember that although, like them, I was 23 when Jeremy started his doctorate program, that was four years ago.
Some scary thoughts:
-I am now the same age my mom was when she had me (actually a couple days older).
-Life events that I remember really well - starting high school, running in my first cross-country season, going to Alaska, etc. - are all half a lifetime away. As in, as much time has passed between then and now as passed between then and the day I was born.
-Other major life events happened a whole decade ago. Ten years! Where has the time gone? It feels like two or three years since I started college, NOT ten.
-I am undeniably an adult now. Those other responsible, grown-up parents of Miriam's preschool classmates, the ones who seem to have life all figured out and organized and in control? They are probably my age. Some of them may even be younger.
The good thing is that I think I'm holding up pretty well. I haven't noticed any grey hairs yet. My skin seems to be doing OK, but if I looked any closer I might be able to convince myself that some wrinkles are starting to appear (but I still get zits sometimes, so what's up with that?). My body doesn't stand up as well to random strain like it used to - no more bending and stooping to empty the dishwasher while holding a baby. I did that a few months ago and ended up pulling a muscle in my abdomen pretty badly. Something like that would have never happened when I was 21 (if for no other reason than because I didn't have a baby back then).
This is what 28 looks like on me, after an hour in the bath BY MYSELF, hallelujah, thank you Jeremy. I don't think anyone would mistake me for a 12-year-old anymore. And that's fine with me - but I wouldn't mind being taken for a 19- or 20-year-old, especially since that's how old I feel inside.
What is your "internal age" - how old do you think you are, in your mind, before you stop to count the years?
Bonus: enjoy the first few moments of this episode of The Simpsons, and the wisdom of Bart on turning 10 years old. Also enjoy this post, on a similar subject.