grey areas

I had the best hair of my life while I was pregnant. Seriously, when I look back on my hair during my pregnancy with Eddie I get swoony for how long and thick and beautiful it was.

Then he was born and all my hair fell out.  Ok, not all of it, but I did have bald spots by my temples.  Oh yes I did.

Same thing with Charlie. In fact, my hair was so awesome during that pregnancy, that I cut it short because it looked great and thick.  Then Charlie was born. It all fell out and I hated my hair more than I have ever hated it.

five days before Eddie was born. I loved my hair.

five days before Eddie was born. I loved my hair…and my youth.

The re-growth has been grey.


Not 100% grey, but more than 50% grey.

I also have this habit of smiling. A lot. And when I stop smiling, the area around my eyes does not get the memo anymore.

I have wrinkles.

This past summer I had to get glasses with a prism in them because my eyes can’t stay focused after using the computer or reading for a long time. It makes night driving–especially in the rain–very difficult.  So I have glasses now.

I have grey hair, wrinkles, and glasses.

What I am trying to say is that I am turning into my grandmother…at age 35.

Here is the deal, my age has never made me feel old (well, except for that unfortunate 25th birthday, but there were extenuating circumstances). In fact, I feel like 30’s and 40’s is still young and fun and whatever.

What has made me feel ancient lately is all these changes I see in my appearance.

It feels out of my control.  Yes, I color my hair every 8-10 weeks, but that doesn’t change the fact that every time I go for a touch-up there are MORE greys than the previous time. I am constantly worrying that as those grey hairs grow longer, my whole head will become wirey and I’ll have to get it cut in the Old Lady Ball and get it “done” once a week and wear a plastic rain bonnet to church.

What? YOU don’t worry about these things?

When did all THIS happen?

When did all THIS happen?

So I joke about it, but truthfully all of these things have me feeling a lot of feelings lately.

I picture myself as the old lady mom at my kids’ school. I picture myself looking grandmotherly while pregnant with Baby #3 (if we are so blessed at some point).

I know the saying of “you’re only as old as you feel,” but I FEEL older when I look in the mirror and see wrinkles and grey hairs and…dude! Is that a chin hair? I JUST PLUCKED THAT YESTERDAY!


Why is being an adult so…angsty?  Or is it just me (tell me it’s NOT just me. Please.)?

I’ve been trying to find the things I still like about myself to counteract these horrifying things I keep noticing, but I know I keep focusing on the stuff that is making me feel, well, old.

I’ve spent so much time watching time pass on my children, that this week it was a shock to my system to see it passing on me too. Just like Eddie is not a toddler anymore, and Charlie is not a baby anymore, I’m not a kid anymore.

I’m not a kid anymore.

I’m an adult. A grown-up.

I spent all my life wondering what it would be to get to the child-bearing age and have a family. A bunch of time was spent thinking about my who I would marry, and who my children would be, and how they would come to be mine, and how many there would be in all.

I never thought about what my life would look like once all those babies were here.  I never thought about what I would look like as a total grownup.

Other than maybe one more pregnancy, I am there. I am a grown-up.

And I look…at least to myself…old.