Being in your forties and a woman is great in many ways. You’re pretty much over the peer pressure, your kids are growing up and don’t need constant attention anymore, you have some routine in your life. Then “the change” begins. Your body has changed before. In your late twenties it decided to become allergic for the first time. When you”re pregnant certain foods don’t agree with you and it doesn’t always go away after the baby is born. Childbirth gifts you with a wonderful creature who will love you unconditionally (most of the time) and a pouch left over from your stomach stretching for nine months. This mid-forties change is a whole new ballgame.
I know I’m not going to look like the young cuties on TV no matter how much I diet and exercise, but I felt like it was under control. I would gain a bit in the winter and lose it again come summer. My clothes fit and if they didn’t, watching what I ate for a few weeks solved it. Not any more. For the first time in my life I have love handles. And I don’t know where they came from, but I do know I would like them to go back.
I am up at 3:00 am. A lot. And it isn’t by choice either. It doesn’t happen all the time, but when it does I know that I will watch the sun rise in the summer and make my morning coffee a bit earlier in the winter. If I knew the trigger I could try to avoid it, but there really isn’t a pattern. For whatever reason, my brain turns on and demands I get up. My body joins in, clamoring that it can’t lay down one more minute, no position is comfortable, and I am done. Up and wandering around the living room. Netflix is a life-saver for me. That and I like to read, so I can catch up on books for a few hours.
My system is re-arranging itself again, just when I was really getting comfortable with it. According to the research, I have a few years of this to look forward to. I can’t wait.