What 48 Looks Like On Me
I’ve been blogging for a decade now, and reflecting on or near my birthday is almost as long of a tradition. I know this, when I started, I was hitting 40. Now, I’m moving in on 50.
It blows my mind.
I’d love to tell you it doesn’t bother me, and for the most part, it doesn’t. But there are a couple triggers that on the outside might not show my panic, but my insides quake with fear. One is knowing I’m near the age to join the very organization I used to work for, RSVP, the Retired and Senior Volunteer Program. My goodness, I was 23 when I started working there, and I never thought back then about being eligible one day. It’s crazy.
I’m also a grandmother this year, and it’s a surreal experience because a lot of people in my Ohio life don’t know or remember we truly have four children, not just the two at home. The older two are married with new babies. But when I hear that I’m a grandmother, I’m first making sure people don’t get confused and think it’s the younger kids, because it’s not. Then I feel stupid when I’m called grandma because sometimes I don’t respond, because I forget. Or if I hear of Grandma Arduini, to me, that’s a name for Tom’s mother, and she was an amazing grandmother. I feel weird having that name, but it is my name. So being a grandma looks great, I’m just a little slow remembering that’s who I am now!
48 also has a look with more back aches and earlier bedtimes, but I also work on walking to balance out my long stretches of sitting while I write. I still color my hair and if I did not, it would be a white/gray combination that I can’t even. My mom will be 75 and she not only runs circles around me, she colors her hair. You would never know her age, and we all have Clairol to thank for that.
48 has me with more books on a shelf with my name on them, and this time last year I had no idea I’d be writing with our teen daughter. That’s crazy and cool and such a God thing. Not only did I release Engaged last year, but You’re Beautiful is now out, and A Walk in the Valley was re released last year. I’ve also had a couple speaking engagements under my belt this year, something I love doing but I haven’t felt like the time was right to market just yet. I have a funny feeling that part of my life will grow in time.
48 has me saying no to work more and yes to times in the hot tub with my husband, or watching YouTube videos with the kids. No matter how much AARP wants me in their club, I’m on Snapchat and try to stay informed on young things, basically to make sure I’m aware as a parent, and as a youth worker. I don’t think you’ll see me posting pix on Facebook of my selfies anytime soon.
48 has me watching more shows on Friday night instead of going out, and, the shows are CBS, a network I remember declaring as a teen meant only for ancient people.
48 has me realizing my favorite teen moments are turning 30 years old or close to it. Looking at you, Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, and everything like it. My teen celebrity crushes are pushing 60. The Friends cast is already near 50, at it, or over. That was a show about 20-somethings. Wasn’t that yesterday?
48 has me forgetting where my keys are when they are in my hand, and talking out loud to stay organized. I have an iPhone where every detail of my life is written out. Not because I’m that busy or important, but because I have to remind myself about everything. 
48 has me laughing when I hear a pregnancy announcement because I am happy for the couple and thrilled it is not me. As an infertility patient, that’s quite the pronouncement. I love where our kids are at. The teen years are hard, but the two we have are amazing. I love chatting with them and wouldn’t trade it for a second.
48 has me saying no a little easier, but not feeling entitled because of my age. When the generations debate about music starts, I’d rather hear a percussion driven song than anything. I’d rather be with teens than adults. But at 48, sometimes I love being with my dog most of all.
48. Not sure what’s in store, but I’m ready.
And grateful.
