Teen Mom

I'm getting older. I'm not sure when it happened.

The last thing I knew I was only 23, with years and years separating me from the dreaded big 3-0.

Now I am 26 and getting closer to 27 with each day. The years are closing in on me, and I'm not even sure where my mid-twenties went; now I am practically in my late twenties, which is totally depressing. I can't be this old! I still feel like I am only 18.

I see these fine lines appearing under my eyes, and the very beginning of creases in my forehead. MY FOREHEAD! I've never had creases there before. I used to walk right past the wrinkle creams in the drugstore, opting for fun shades of eyeliner and flavored lip gloss. Now I find myself slowing down as I get to mature item section, and wonder if it wouldn't be such a bad idea to start using those anti-aging creams, you know, as a preventative measure?

I'm not even going to tell you how many gray hairs I pluck out on a weekly basis, it's just depressing. 

It's not only my outsides that are aging though. My body can't handle salt anymore. In high school I could drink endless amounts of soda, and eat an entire box of Cheez-Its, and the next morning I wouldn't wake up feeling hungover from the salt and sugar. 

Nowadays, if I eat something high in sodium, the next morning my eyes feel like they are glued together, and I am certain that some invisible force must have slipped a mickey in my nightly tea (and OMG when did I start drinking nightly tea??). 

Oh, and I also have to take off my wedding ring because too much salt apparently makes my fingers grow to twice their normal size.

I can't believe my 40th birthday is only about 13 and half years away. I mean, that is seriously not long at all before I will be middle-aged. When did this happen??

There is another side to this though.

Not everyone thinks I look old, and no, I'm not just talking about my mom.

Last winter I was selling my lovely driftwood art at a local retail center. Every time I would go there to restock my items or check on sales, I would have a quick chat with the manager. I would tell her about my husband and our two sons, and blah blah blah, small talk. Well, around December, my mom went into the store one day to buy some of my driftwood, (I found out later she was the only reason I made any money). 

The manager (who didn't know who my mom was), started a conversation with her and was talking up my driftwood. She said, "Oh, it's lovely handmade art from a local stay-at-home mom. She's so nice, she's got two little boys. She's only 20 years old".

20?? Wow. Thanks...I guess. I don't think I want to be a 20 year old with two kids though. That's a little too teen mom-ish for my taste. When I was 20 the last thing on my mind was having kids. I was mainly concerned with finishing yet another 15-page essay and is Jessica's brother going to buy us some Smirnoff Ice for this weekend?

Then I went to that writer's conference last month, and I was talking with a fellow participant on the first night. I mentioned that I have two kids, and her eyes got really big and she said, "Whoa! Wait a second - can I ask...how old are you?"

When I told her I was 26 she said she thought I was still in college!

So when I am looking in the mirror after a tiring day of chasing around my two beautiful boys, and I can't help but scrutinize this face of mine, I will try to tell myself that it's okay, because strangers apparently think I'm a super young, skanky teen mom. 

And that sure beats getting older.