About Guest Blogger
Pop in when you have a few spare moments for a cosy chat. Read about real-mom experiences and contribute your own slices of life at our Drop-In Centre.
April guest blogger Jody Robbins wonders if it’s better to be hot at 40 vs. comfortably OK in her 30’s. Check back next Wednesday for Jody's final post.
I suppose this happens to everyone at some point, and my time just caught me by surprise. But at 38, I started obsessing about turning 40. Not about the party (August 6 pig roast in Canmore, AB, everyone welcome) but about where I am compared to where I thought I’d be.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with my lot in life. It’s just that I didn’t, you know, marry into the royal family or become a spy.
I’m used to thinking, when X happens, then Y will. I’ll stop getting pimples when I’m perimenopausal. I’ll get rid of the station wagon once my kid is older (it’s just so damn spacious).
Then the wake-up call came at 38 and, after a year of alternating between denial and acceptance, I decided to get my act together. Here’s my journey towards the big 4-0.
Project 1: get into the best shape of my life by 40. I made the mistake of telling my trainer this (never tell them your real goals — they’ll hold you to them). I don’t know what I was I thinking, but it certainly wasn’t about 5 sets of 20 reps of tri-pulls to wave good-bye to my chicken arms. Said trainer seems to enjoy watching me work my legs for an hour after mentioning I wanted to wear shorts again. She’ll have to torture any other goals out of me (she’s very good at the torture part). They won’t be forthcoming from my grill-encased mouth anymore.
Which brings me to Project 2: braces. I decided enough of smiling without teeth in pictures because I’m self-conscious of my two front chicklets. Turning 40 seemed the ideal opportunity to set things straight. Though I’m loathe to admit it, the grill makes me look younger and somewhat hip (or pitiful) to our babysitters.
To match the braces, I decided to go full nerd and do Project 3: glasses. All three phases of this aging process are complete: admit I need them, get them and wear them on occasion.
And the list goes on: I no longer eat airplane food, I treat myself to nice underwear more than once a year and I can confirm proactive waxing of my nether-regions even when there’s no swimsuit requirement on the horizon.
Admittedly, my projects seem vain, but is that a bad thing if I’m treating myself better? Despite the glasses, braces, and gravity-induced cleavage, my husband doesn’t seem to mind curling up with a good book and a bad “librarian.”
How about you? Has any milestone birthday or major life event provided incentive to change things around?
SweetMama Calgary contributor, Jody Robbins, is an almost 40-something mother of one precocious gal. She’s not allowed to smile since recently getting braces, but admits to showing off her grill for Bernard Callebaut and any member of the macaroon family. 