My dad has always said you are as young as you feel. I thought it was a mantra for just himself and saying it out loud made him feel it must be true. Mom always joked she had three kids, my dad being the biggest of them all. But I have realized for my dad it is reality to him. I know because I now understand.
Here I am at 34 with my second child cradled in my arms, and I realize I have the Peter Pan syndrome too. I refer to myself, (at least in my head), as a girl not a woman. I still think my age is closer to kids in high school than their parents and am convinced I cpuld relate to them with this age logic. And I look in the mirror and don’t really think I’ve changed much since college, neck up anyway. Order up! I’ll have a side of toned up arms and abs, please. And hold the post-baby tummy sag.
But I am holding the proof I have aged. The fact that there are more than 40 pounds of boy sleeping snuggled up next to me is astounding! I am incredulous I have a five-year-old, and oh so glad we didn’t wait any longer.
Age may be a state of mind, but the mind can’t ignore what the body is saying, especially when it’s too tired to fight back.