Aging (not so gracefully)

My age has never really bothered me all that much. I've heard talk of friends crying all day on their 30th birthday or pulling the covers over their heads and reluctantly emerging days later in honor of their 35th or 40th, but I've always thought this was absurd. My 35th birthday passed less than 6 months ago without incident, but this week I have felt the sting of aging in a series of not so subtle moments.

Incident #1 - After sitting indian-style watching an episode of The Office with Steve on the couch, I hopped up to get a fudge pop out of the freezer. I was seized by shooting pain from the sole of my right foot through the crown of my head and was forced to hobble the rest of the way grabbing my aching back all the way. It occurred to me in that moment that I was the spitting image of my grandma.

Incident #2 - The middle school where I teach was put into lock down by the local police this week because a student threatened to harm himself and could not be located. This involved locking teachers and students in classrooms. I did not have students when the lock down started, so I took care of locking my empty classroom and headed across the hall to hunker down with my work best friend (WBF) and another teacher (Science Daddy - don't ask). Maybe it's my gender, maybe my age, or maybe just the stress of the situation, but by the time we realized that this was not just a drill I realized how badly I had to pee. About 45 minutes in I was seriously considering taking care of business by hanging my bum over one of the science lab sinks. Good thing I didn't because about 20 seconds later a police officer unlocked the door and escorted us, gun drawn, to the gym to wait out the search with the rest of the student body. I had to hold a lock down drill of my own until I was released to go to the restroom.

Incident #3 - I've had reading glasses for over a year, but lately I've found myself wearing them more and more each day, especially given my job as a reading teacher. Walking down the hall wearing my glasses the other day I found myself thinking, "Man, I wish these were bifocals." Nursing home, here I come.

Incident #4 - While chatting in the copy room with a 23-year-old punk kid teacher (I hope you're reading this!) the conversation somehow meandered around to a single friend of mine. He says, "How old is she?" I say, "My age." He replies, face all crinkled up in a grimace of distaste, "Ewwww..." He then tries to backpedal, but it's no use. I recall the days when I was the youngest teacher at school, those days are long gone.

As old as I feel, the good news is that my hubby is aging just as gracefully. He pulled a hamstring fielding grounders at our 4-year-old's baseball practice this week. We're quite a pair.