This is the week I “turn old,” as my kids say.
I’m mentally preparing myself.

I must admit that within the last six months, I have noticed some signs of age creeping up on me:
I can’t run like I used to be able to run.

My eye cream … not working. Crow’s feet have turned into crow’s legs.

My eyesight is getting poorer and poorer. Vision has changed drastically in just 5 months. I’m getting pretty scared about my next driver’s license vision test.

More and more waking up before the alarm clock has ensued. I might as well just get up and eat my Fiber One and bananas at 4:30 a.m.

The gray hairs are popping up like weeds! Just when I pluck one out, I find four more. Ugh.

My love for flowing dresses that don’t constrict or touch my body at all is inescapable. A daily moo-moo will suit me just fine, thank you.

And, I’ll spare you the gruesome details of all my hormonal issues that encompass more than being a crybaby.

Despite all these things, there are times I forget that I’m going to be “over the hill.” I have to remind myself … “Hey … Did you forget your age? You’re not 20 anymore, silly.”

So, yes … this week I “turn old.” But only in numbers.

I must say I would not want to be any younger. I treasure the wisdom I’ve gained over the years and I’m finally beginning to understand me and liking who I am.

So, shut up, 40!