Kids and Gray Hair

So while I’m on the subject of feeling blue in the fall (see yesterday’s post) I may as well address how OLD I am feeling lately, which I am thinking may also be linked to the fact that it is fall, the season of decay. Every time I look in the mirror I see an ageing face, that looks ten years older than it did two weeks ago. That, combined with my melancholy mood, and it’s really making me wish I had a trenchcoat. It’s also making me wish I knew a violinist that had a lot of free time. That way, I could wear my trenchcoat and walk around in the gray, raw weather with a sad, mournful soundtrack of a violin following me everywhere I go.

I’m so curious to see now, what happens to my mood. Will I just get used to these short, cold, gray days and embrace them? Will I feel sad until March? Will I feel youthful and peppy ever again? Do I just feel old because of the weather, or is it because I am, in fact, ageing? Am I ageing faster than people that don’t have children?

I always hated hearing, as a kid, that having children gives one gray hairs and makes you age quickly. Now I think I am really starting to get it. When the baby is born the poor parents age more quickly because they get no sleep. Anyone who only gets 4 hours of sleep a night, max, for months on end will age quickly. Then, even when you start getting sleep again, you will find that you worry more because suddenly you have much more responsibility in your life than you ever had before. You are completely responsible for another human being’s life. Beyond the worry there is the sheer hard work part. Oh yeah, parenting is a 24 hours a day, 7 days a week job. If you want to call in sick you need to find back up. That’s a lot of work and hard work ages you. Finally, after several years of no sleep, worry and hard work you start to realize that since you had children you began to completely neglect yourself. I fed the kids, yes. But, wait, I forgot to eat! I also didn’t make it to the gym and didn’t get a chance to color my hair. I don’t get to take a nice, hot shower every morning any more. Even when I do take the time to feed myself I am not likely to give thought to my food the way I once did. I still eat healthy food, but am I really counting how many milligrams of calcium I’m getting every day? Did I get enough servings of fish and leafy green vegetables this week? Frankly, I just don’t have time to focus on that now. I grab an apple and go.

I have more aches and pains in my body now than I ever did before. Is it because I’m getting older, or is it because I don’t work out, and more importantly, don’t stretch, the way I used to? I spend so much time caring for other people now that there is not a lot left over for me. I also tend to feel a bit guilty now when I do spend time on myself. An hour for a hair cut seems frivolous, and a long, hot shower seems like a royal indulgence. When I take time to really fix my hair, think about my clothes or apply some make-up, I always worry that there will be some big price to pay for my vanity. But, I argue to myself, until recently everyone HAD to do this. Our extremely casual culture is relatively new, and mostly limited to the United States. I think European mothers are still expected to look “fixed up” when they leave the house, and not just roll out of bed in their pajamas to take the kids to school. In the 1960s I don’t think you would see people walking the streets with slippers, sweat pants and “is it a bra or is it a shirt?” on top, no make-up, uncombed hair pulled into a messy knot on the back of the head. So, I tell myself, taking a little time to actually try not to look unkempt and frumpy is just embracing some good, old-fashioned values. I really do feel better when I take a little time. I’m not talking about a lot of time and I don’t think looking “polished” is ever an adjective that would be used to describe me. I’m just talking about spending a few extra minutes to wear pants that are actually clean and fit well, find a top that matches and perhaps, just maybe, take the earrings out of the ears that have been there for a week and replace them with a pair that hasn’t been worn in a while that complements the outfit. Oh, now I remember, that’s called accessorizing. When I do this, I really do feel good. I feel like I walk with more confidence. And, I don’t feel so old.

I think that the years of parenting young children go by in a blur. When the parents come to, whenever that is since I don’t know, I’m not there yet, they see themselves and the effect all the years of neglect has had on them. They feel old and say, “oh, kids age you.”

My goal this fall is to try to counteract that feeling. I will plan to shower every day and perhaps I’ll even schedule myself a massage. If that doesn’t life my mood and add a bounce to my step, then maybe I’ll just have to wait to spring, the season of rebirth, and see what happens then.

Maybe I Should Stop Seeing Movies, Especially in the Fall

I was starting to suspect that new thoughts are not constantly popping in my head, that every time I think deeply about something and think I get closer to some great truth that really, my brain has been there before and I’m just rehashing the same old thoughts. The thoughts clogging my head in the last week seem too familiar; the words jumping in my mouth have a stale taste. I decided to look through my old blog entries and realized with surprise that I have been writing articles for almost exactly one year. Imagine my surprise when I realized that I was about to write a VERY SIMILAR entry to the one I wrote one year ago. Not only do my thoughts recur, but, can it be, that they come to me at the same time of year? Is it just a cycle? Oh, it’s early summer, I must be very concerned about politics. Golly, it’s February, so I’m very concerned about global warming?

Well, last week I saw a movie in a theater with my husband, “The Bourne Ultimatum.” Yes, I know that movie has been out of theaters for a while, but we caught it at the second run theater in town for about $2.50 each. It doesn’t matter to us as we only see a couple movies in theaters every year. They’re all new to us. Inexplicably, because it’s a gray, unsettling movie shot with weird, eye-straining camera angles, I was carried away by the excitement of it all. I became slightly enamored by Matt Damon. Afterwards my life seemed dull.

A couple days later we turned the clocks back and lost an hour of daylight. The weather grew chilly. I felt tired and noticed a few dark circles under my eyes. I yearned, YEARNED for a glamorous and exciting life. I said to my husband, “I want to be beautiful, glamorous and important.” He looked at me very sweetly and offered, “you are beautiful (bless his soul!) and very important to many people.” He paused, looked thoughtfully and said, “about the glamour part, I don’t know, hmmm, what would that be exactly?” I assured him that there was no glamour in my life so he wasn’t missing anything. I cast a cursory glance in the general direction of my closet which contains several pairs of flat-soled shoes and boots in neutral colors, lots of jeans, corduroys, comfy tee-shirts and warm sweaters. Not a lot of glamour in there. I glanced in the mirror at my messy-need-to-cover-gray-roots air-dried hair. At my un-made-up tired-looking face. Nope, he’s not missing the glamour part, it’s just not there.

It’s times like this, with my 40th birthday approaching (okay, in two years) that I realize that if I don’t have an opportunity to wear a fancy gown soon that if I ever do I will have missed the chance to look really good in it. I mean, I think many older women look AMAZING, but I don’t really want to wait until I’m all wrinkled and worn-looking to wrap myself in sequins and sparkly things. Maybe all my years of looking more earth-mama than diva have been a denial of some kind? Like when I was in college and didn’t shave my armpits or legs because I thought that was better for some reason even though I always hated how it looked on me. Tan women with pale blonde underarm hair? You go girl! That looks fine. Pale-skinned woman with jet-black underarm hair? Yuck, shave that shit off. I finally did.

So, maybe it’s something about the fall that makes me feel this way? It is the season of dying, truly, on our way to the season of death (well, at least dormancy). Everything is asleep; the trees have no leaves and bears are sleeping. Plants lost their blossoms long ago and everything is waiting. Everything is past its prime. I feel like that too. So, maybe my life isn’t really dull, maybe it’s just the natural effect of the seasons, the natural rhythm and cycle of life, on my senses? I hope so. But I really hate feeling this way. I want to hop on a plane to where the sun shines all the time and the palm trees never stop swaying in the breeze. I want to dance.

Perhaps I should just see different movies in the fall. Maybe I should see slow-moving, melancholy French films or just watch documentaries, and save the action-adventure-with-hot-lead guy for spring. Maybe when I don’t feel so old and worn out, because I think mixed with the juxtaposition of exciting action-adventure film vs. my dull life I am also disturbed by the idea that the lead hot guys, who are both roughly my age, probably are dating/married to women ten years younger.

Changing the movies I view in the fall might be helpful, but it doesn’t really solve the cyclical-thought dilemma. Am I nothing more than a reflex box that just responds to the changes around me? Are my thoughts and feelings predictable based on how close to the winter solstice or autumnal equinox they occur? Maybe I should stop thinking so much and just watch the Colbert Report. Or, come to think of it, I guess I can just pour myself a martini. It worked last year.