Friends, I think I might be middle aged.
People who know my age will not be shocked. However, I don't pay much attention to my actual age. In act, I decided I'd be "recently 41" for the next several years. It is just easier than thinking becoming older (I don't think about being actually "old."). I have an ancestral heritage of being vague about my age. My family tree is filled with vague birth and dates that don't align. When I review census records, one would believe my great-great grandmother was reverse aging. And my paternal grandmother lied until the end and I suspect attempted to bribe the coroner before her death to make sure she was forever 87; instead of being 90-something.
It's in my blood to deny my age.
However, my body aches from a week of Christmas decorating, party preparations, endless errands, lifting a 40lb cake, lifting 100 million lbs of items from Costco, cleaning up, messing up, cleaning up, messing up, cleaning up, repeat, running around the town and drinking sake from a squeeze bottle for 27 seconds at the hibachi place in town.
Body parts hurt. I think there is water rentention. Since I've been running around so much and therefore sweating, my foundation won't stay on and the bags under my eyes are like beacons of age. I just want to sleep, but I don't think I can because people (young people) need things.
This season--both this Christmas season and this season of my life--is exhausting.
Last week, when I was 30-something, I had more energy! And now, I can barely see the screen to type this blog!
But, the weird thing is, I don't want to miss one second of it. I want to stay up late and watch bad Netflix Christmas movied and cross stitch. I want to sip red wine and stare at my Christmas tree until midnight. I am not sure this is sustainable, but I am trying!
Instead of doing the rational thing and going to bed, I am trying hard to discern what's important to give energy to and what can wait. I am not always winning at this--but in trying, I've been collapsing into bed satisifed each day and sleeping soundly for 5 hours before awakening to more seasonal endurance activities.
The one thing I have learned in my middle age years is that you don't typically remember how tired you were on any given day, but you do remember the joy and fun you had; so I am leaning into my exhaustion and thinking about making a new tradition of family afternoon naps.
Today, I did not get my family afternoon nap ( I was grocery shopping, counseling a child about body image issues, styling holiday wardrobes and making beef stew before the Candlelight church service and the ice skating thing.); so I am signing off, making this Yoke short and exhausting. . . until tomorrow, friends!
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