I’ll just put it out there.
Every time I stand up from sitting down for any period of time I can’t get to the bathroom fast enough. I blame gravity. And being 52. But mostly gravity. It’s not always instantaneous – sometimes after standing up, I live in a 30 second gravity-less vortex, so I have to wait to pass judgement on how fast I need to move. But when it hits, it hits hard.
In fact the kids all know to step aside on the way into the house or listen to mom cry ‘it’s gonna burst”.
And it has. I’ll spare the details.
The only time I earned a back seat to the bathroom rush was when my daughter, Maggie was pregnant. Gravity was not her friend during that time either. For those 9 months I didn’t go anywhere without my Depends. I’m flexible and understanding, but my bladder is not.
And friends who don’t get it? “Age 50? I’m floating on air,” she says. I wish I says.
I am not growing old gracefully. I wish I was one of those women who feels better at 50 than she did at 25. I’m not, so I’m just dealing.
Oh and It’s not just the bladder that gravity plays havoc with. Don’t forget:
- Boobs – sometimes one more than the other
- Arm fat
- Bad knees
- Muffin top (which becomes a muffin bottom)
- Feet – half size wider, nbd
- Holding my grandbaby on my hip which is like having him on your bladder. Yes, we’re back to the bladder again.
Gravity. I defy you. You suck. You will not win. You may get your way, but you will not defeat me.