Identification – Tuesday May 15th

I bought a bottle of wine at the supermarket on Sunday and the cashier didn’t ask for my I.D.  There’s a sign on the cash register that says “If you look under 35 we ask for ID!”

I’m 33.

I also didn’t have my ID with me, and had spent 10 minutes waiting in line worrying about what I would say when I was asked to produce it.  I thought I could prove my age with my knowledge of 90′s sit-coms and music, or point out my grey hairs that I can’t find the time to color anymore.  I was getting tense about having to prove my age.

Then I was offended when I didn’t need to prove my age. When I got home I put on half a bottle of face moisturizer and so much hand cream that I got trapped in the bathroom because I couldn’t grip the door handle.

While it’s true that I assumed I would go on looking like I’m in my 20′s well into my 40′s, I don’t actually mind getting older.  My age has taught me to keep a savings account- very useful to pay for the endless parade of dental work, dog ACL surgery, and medical bills.  I’m slowly learning how to keep my mouth shut when people don’t ask my opinion or advice, and I hope soon to learn how to stop talking about my problems to people who try and “cheer me up” or help me “look at the bright side”.  Growing up has taught me the importance of networking, and to have a couple of outfits on hand that I can wear to weddings and funerals.

I try not to feel inadequate for living with my parents, and I focus on being grateful that they are so generous and fun to be around.  I try not to compare what I have or what I’ve accomplished to my friends, because we are all on such different paths.  I try not to feel discouraged that many of the things I dreamed about as a teenager are almost hopelessly far away, because other, newer dreams have come true.

When all that trying doesn’t work, and I’m crabby and discouraged and bitter, I think about my daughter Hazel.  She is so beautiful and clever and funny.  She doesn’t even know how loved she is, and takes it for granted that someone will always be there to hug her and fawn over her and discuss her poops with enthusiasm.  Her arrival gave me a new life, and it’s one that I want her to be proud of.  So I’m going to commit to exercising regularly, and Weight Watchers, and creative writing, and keeping my room clean.

And if I skip a few days or have set backs, I’ll remind myself that Hazel is not sleeping through the night yet, and getting those 3 am snuggles give me enough energy and joy to try again the next day.

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Comments

  1. Frank Grimes Jr. says:

    Its funny that at 22, I found myself offended when asked for an ID. Now that I’m in my 30′s, I’m offended when they don’t!

    At least you have that beautiful, amazing baby!

  2. Kristen says:

    Lots of good reasons to be grateful for growing older! I’ve always got to work on not comparing myself to others. And so true with people who tell you to “look on the bright side”…drives me nuts…you’re right, best not to share problems with them…

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