Getting old

I turned 45 this summer.   That might not sound old to you, it didn’t really sound old to me at the time.   I have never had those feelings of despair as I approached “the big O” when I turned either 30, or 40.   I don’t even care particularly that in five years there will be another one.   It is, after all, just a number.

I don’t really bother with “anti ageing” creams, potions or lotions.  My skin care regime would make a beauty blogger weep.   But, hell, it just doesn’t register with me.

Or should I say, it didn’t until Saturday.  When I suddenly felt very old.  Which is odd really as I was going to a 50th birthday party of a really good friend of Mr B’s (who himself has the Big O next year) so I was amongst the youngest there.  So why the feeling old?   Well for starters I knew I was going to be the one driving us home from rural Bedfordshire, a 90 minute drive, probably at midnight.   To counter that I went to bed for an hour in the afternoon.   A proper, clothes off, in bed, snooze.  Not just a nap on the sofa but properly to bed.    For an hour.

And then began the “getting ready” bit for the night out.    That took 35 minutes.   Almost half the length of time it took for me to have the sleep.  What happened to the “spending all day getting ready” scenario?  Where there was a trip into town to buy a new outfit.   Where there was preparation and planning.   And conversations with friends over who is wearing what?

I also seem to recall that when I was younger the drink that accompanied getting ready for a night out was alcoholic.   On Saturday it was a cup of tea.  Seriously?  When has that been anybody’s “get in the mood for a fun evening” drink of choice?

Ditto music.   It used to be loud and guaranteed to have me dancing around the bedroom.   En route to the party yesterday it was Magic FM and the most uplifting song I heard was the theme to Jerry Maguire.    Actually, tell a lie.  There was a moment when the reception went so we tuned to Radio 1.   They were playing some hard core acid thumping noise.    I muttered “I need drugs” and Mr B said “really?  To help you really get this Ibiza soundtrack experience?”.   No.  I replied.   “Night Nurse so I can go to sleep and not have to listen to this racket”.

Even the morning after when there was no lingering, tell tale signs of a hangover as I was drinking lemonade all night.   I didn’t have a day dying on the sofa to make me feel somehow alive to look forward to.  Nope.

When did I become this old?  Or am I just tired?  Tell me it’s the latter somebody, please!   I am too young to be getting old, aren’t I?

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  • I have no skin care routine other than washing my face, I never could bear radio 1 but I do still like loud music, 35 minutes seems plenty to get ready to me, and I do love a good nap (even if they are rare with a toddler in the house!). I don’t care about numbers either, my OH is 50 next year too, which mildly surprises me as I used to think 50 was old, I don’t now! We aren’t old Mrs, we are wise and fabulously vintage. Who needs to waste a day getting ready or feeling hungover when there are far more interesting things to do with our time!

  • Mummy B, it’s not getting old, it is maturing, coming to your senses, describe it how you will, it comes to some of us earlier than others, i think I was birn mature, never liked Radio I, or parties, I was always the nominated driver, by choice because that was always a good excuse to refuse alcohol. I don’t have a skin care routine either, shower gel and water do it for me, with a bit of body lotion if my face feels tight, my skin is still there, I’ve got folds in my face, but then I would expect that having lost 5 stone, they are my life lines, my experience, the nearest I will ever get to an autobiography.

  • Is this the same woman who goes to ‘Fright Night’ at Thorpe Park and loves Warner Brothers ‘Harry Potter Experience’? You’re not old, just grown up, but you always were mature beyond your years.
    Best hangover statement I ever heard…………
    “It must be awful waking up sober, thinking that is the best you are going to feel all day”

    • Beautifully crafted comment. Shakespeare must be turning in his grave!

      Roll on, say I.

  • You are exactly the same age as me, I turned 45 in July. My husband also will be hitting the big 50 next year. I don’t feel my age, although I have started taking more care of my skin now – I enter a lot of competitions so I have a constant supply of expensive skincare products to play with. I don’t wear makeup any more though, that disappeared in my 30s somehow. I keep up with pop music by having 4Music on in the background on TV a couple of times a week, keeping up with current sounds keeps me young – I’ve always loved electro pop and dance music in addition to heavy metal and punk. I rarely drink now, once a month on average and even then its only one or two. I’ve become much more health-conscious since I hit my 40s, lol, not that its necessarily converted into action – I need to drop more than a few pounds to be healthy. I’m more confident and content than I’ve been at any other stage in my life – and, although my clothes are still on the edgy side, I no longer get security guards following me around shops as a prospective shoplifter (I was a punk in my younger days). So, there are some benefits to being older – and in the end you are only as old as you feel – which makes me about 35 on a good day I reckon 😀

  • I have to say that you seem to have a great balance – doing the fun stuff, but having the sense that comes when we have done a bit of time living. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself (but I think it does have some truth to it). I think you’re one rather impressive lady tbh

  • I LOVE this! OH and I were commenting on the fact that we haven’t been “clubbing” for about 5 years, but when did that stop? We didn’t all have a chat and decide we didn’t want it anymore, it just stopped! t went on a “girls night out” (to a friends house!) on Friday evening and it was the wildest party I’ve been to in ages! We were laughing about how we used to GO OUT at 11pm but this time around what we REALLY fancied come 11 was a nice cuppa! That said, we DID end up on the trampoline at midnight! Not giving in without a fight, clearly! 😉 x

  • Oh how I can relate to this one. Having turned 43 today I wrote a similar post. The only difference is, I’m embracing the fact that I don’t have to pretend any more. I’m a proper grown up and if I want to wear fleecey socks and drink tea in my PJs all evening, I will! And I’m not going to feel the pressure to pretend otherwise!

  • I feel your pain and identify with almost all of the aged dilemmas you mention as I’m fast-approaching my 47th birthday and will happily drink a pot of tea to myself. I like to think that realising my limitations makes me a fully fledged adult!