I didn't think 35 was that old until this weekend.

I thought 35 was the new 25 or something equally fabulous.  When I was 25 I was a lot lighter, newly married and the world was my oyster.  Now that I am 35, I am heavier, a DECADE into being married and truth be told, I don't really care for oysters.  So there.  However, I never really felt my age.  Any time anyone asked me how old I was or what year I was born in, I would respond but in this sorta out of body detached kind of way.  In my mind, my mom is 35.  I am still dewy skinned and rosy cheeked.  (Just because it's from exertion doesn't matter!)

So this weekend I did two things that showed me how "not young" I am.

1) I played Kinect with a few family members and a few strangers.  Not only was it exhausting but it was a real kick in the pants too.  Mainly because I was the only one that exposed herself during the game.  Yes, I jumped up with such excitement that my shirt nearly went over my head.  Luckily, it stopped just before the bra.  And while all of this seems like a micro-second faux pas, what I haven't yet told you is that the Kinect TAKES PICTURES OF YOU WHILE PLAYING.  So at the end of the game it flashed the picture on the giant TV screen for everyone to see.  One woman laughed so hard I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.  I guess that really has more to do with my pride than my not being so young anymore but my shoulder did really hurt this morning.

2) I danced with my daughter and nearly ruptured her spleen and almost broke my arm.  Even typing is making my elbow throb.  This was a double whammy of old age.  No balance and no resilience.  I fell over backwards because of the balance issue.  I landed on my poor little daughter.  And because I am no longer a child whose bones haven't even finished fusing, I will probably feel this injury for DAYS to come.  My back hurts, my arm is partially numb and it took me a full minute to get up off the floor.

I feel like I have skipped being my mother and gone straight onto being my grandmother.  This sucks to no end and I am going to do something about it.  What, exactly, remains to be seen.  So wish me luck and send some Ben-Gay my way.  Address it to the nursing home.  Thanks.