40 is the new 20?

I've been contemplating this phrase lately. I imagine (although I can't confirm, because I can't find the originator of it) the meaning rests in the fact that the childbearing age of women has shifted later and later in the past few generations, such that it is not unusual for women to be having even their first child in their forties. (I can certainly attest that this is true in my own circle of friends, many of whom have had babies in their forties.)

I was fortunate enough to have my babies in my 30s. So, now in my forties, I am in the process of redefining myself. I am no longer a gestator, breastfeeder or baby-wearer. While not feeling completely untethered (will I ever feel untethered again?), I am experiencing a growing freedom that I have not seen since my 20s. So, are my forties going to be my new 20s?

Well, let's see. My face (while a bit more haggard, perhaps) looks similar to what it looked like in my 20s. And by that I mean, BROKEN OUT. Pimples with their own ZIP CODE. I am not happy about this blast from the past. I imagine my dermatologist (the Swedish woman with perfectly flawless skin) will tell me it's due to "declining hormones," a phrase that is truly starting to raise my ire. (More on that to come.)

The other change in my face, which is not a flashback, is blotchiness. REAL blotchiness. Angry red patches. I had a facial recently (my first ever) and the esthetician told me that I have rosacea. Me? Rosacea? Ha! Ted Kennedy has roseacea. I do not have rosacea. So I came home and looked it up. Silly woman! I have Irish skin, not rosacea! (Can you tell I was bordering on irrational here?) And there it was, from the National Rosacea Society themselves... a picture of ME! Well, not me, but someone with Subtype 1, characterized by "flushing and persistent central facial [redness]." Eeek! That crazy esthetician was RIGHT! (Another thing to discuss with Dr. Flawless Skin.) And of course, she told me that it is due to "declining hormones."

Wrinkles are another newfound feature of the 40s. While, so far, I have been fortunate enough not to see this yet in my own face (and really isn't red, blotchy, angry skin punishment enough?), I do see wrinkles forming on the faces of my peers. I have always believed that wrinkles are like a patina and are part of the badge of a life well-lived that we should wear proudly. I can believe this, because I don't have them yet. Perhaps I would feel differently if my face was prematurely wrinkled (as my hair is prematurely grey - I certainly rushed out to fix THAT problem in a hurry!). I supposed that I would possibly, potentially, well, MAYBE consider a Botox intervention. Until recently, of course. Modern science has discovered that, oh WHOOPS, it's actually NOT a good idea to inject BOTULISM into your face, mere inches away from your brain, throat and other vital body parts! So a patina and badge of a life well lived (or a monument to sun damage), I will have.

The next thing I noticed in my 40s was that my near vision deteriorated rapidly. In fact, vanished before my very eyes! (That's a joke there!) It was so alarming to me that I stopped wearing my contacts. If I have my glasses on, I can take them off, hold a paper about an inch from my nose, and yes, I can read it. With my contacts, everything up close was a big blur. I hesitated going to my eye doctor. I knew he was going to tell me I had glaucoma or macular degeneration. Surely, this couldn't happen so rapidly and be normal. When I could stand it no longer, I went to see him, practically trembling as I waited for the bad news. He looked in my eyes. He blew air in my eyes. He shined lights in my eyes. Then... he sat back... took a breath... and said... "Have you tried reading glasses?"

Wha?

Well, NO I didn't try reading glasses. That doesn't help macular degeneration, does it? He stuck a pair of reading glasses on my nose, and SWEET JESUS, there it was! All the things I couldn't see! Right! there! Saved by modern medicine again! (And I asked him, "Is this caused by declining hormones?" and he said "Well, I don't know about that. It's caused by the fact that your eyes are getting old." God BLESS that man!)

I have since learned however, that I am one of those crazy old ladies who can never find her reading glasses (which in my case, is umm... hereditary!), so I have not fully adopted the glasses over contacts method of vision yet.

The other problem I am having with contacts, is that my eyes are becoming much more easily irritated. Dr. Phil (yes, my eye doctor's name is Dr. Phil) is on a quest to find a brand of contacts that my eyes will like. I tried high oxygen permeable lenses. They actually bothered my eyes more than my previous lenses. Dr. Phil told me that I might just be one of those people whose eyes grow increasingly irritated by contact lenses as they age. He said "Have you ever heard of rosacea?" What? Again with the rosacea? Apparently, I have rosacea of the face AND the eyeball. (Or the equivalent thereof, anyway.)

I HAVE found another similarity with my bod in its 20s. My weight. Yes, I am about the same weight I was in my 20s. (Although it's certainly NOT the same body I had before 4 kids grew inside it and burst out of it.) The reason I am the same weight however, is not because I have the revving metabolism I had 20 years ago. It's because I never sit down and I never have time to eat. (Other than the peanut butter and jelly crusts I nibble as I am gathering up the lunch plates.) In my 20s, I had full-fat and sugar vanilla lattes. Every day! Now, I go for the skinny version. I had lunch and very often dinner at restaurants. (Remember restaurants?) I never exercised. I had no one to chase. I sat on my butt in front of a computer all day and never worried about what size clothes I would be buying next season. Now, that size is hard won. I watch what I put in my mouth, deny myself desserts, and if I do sit down long enough to eat a meal, it is mostly lettuce. I exercise when I can, which is not very often, but, if there was a way to burn calories while driving a minivan, I could actually be a supermodel!

Another unfavorable comparison with my 20s. My teeth. In my 20s, I used to chew ice cubes. Now, just looking at an ice cube makes my teeth hurt. I have to warm up grapes in the microwave just to be able to eat them. My teeth are extremely sensitive to cold. And apparently brittle too. I broke a tooth eating a granola bar recently. (Fiber, good for the aging digestion.) Now, I am waiting for the news on whether or not my dentist can make me a crown to fit over the broken tooth, or whether it will have to be removed and an implant put in. And before you go and start googling "dental implants," trust me, DON'T! My other option is a bridge - also known as DENTURES. Egads! DENTURES? I'll take the implant, barbaric as it may seem.

In Part 2 of this series, I will discuss the psychological benefits of being 40 over being 20, and the similarities in those two life stages. Right now, it's time for my Metamucil and I think I have a doctor's appointment or two to schedule.