“You can be gorgeous at thirty, charming at forty, and irresistible for the rest of your life.”
– Coco Chanel
“What happened to my boobs and waist in between now and before the kids!?”
-Messycow
According to the Oxford English Dictionary middle age is between 45 and 65: “The period between early adulthood and old age, usually considered as the years from about 45 to 65.”
I’m underage yet, but why I’m having the crisis so badly?
A big part of it is the changes on my body.
I still haven’t found any way to get rid of the 20 pounds I gained for my two children.
It used to be fun staying up late.
It’s abuse now.
I used to like young, cute guys.
I still like young, cute guys.
Just in a different way.
When I was young, I didn’t care about where I went vacation, but what I wore on vacation.
And it’s not important if the scene was beautiful, it’s only important my pictures were beautiful.
Talking about picture taking, I had to train my husband like a disabled dog to take some passable pictures for me. Most times he captured the exact moments when I looked retarded with my eyes half open or belly extruded like I just ate the whale in the aquarium we were at.
But when he took pictures of the kids, he suddenly became this talented photographer who played with the lights, angles and the 108 settings of the camera. He took the cutest pictures of them.
I realized that I was the problem.
I have a totally different ( or realistic?) perception of clothing shopping now.
Music, I still like music.
The girl who chased after the coolest underground bands was gone.
I just wanted to listen to the same songs I listened 20 years ago with a cup of tea in my hands.
And I used to not care much about those women who were proud of their kids.
If you asked me why I worked hard…
Because the illusion of immortality has disappeared.
Hey, I’ve gone so far, just allow me to put on the last straw.
Should I rest here, or find an alternative path, or just climb another mountain?
Will I find the treasure or the dragon? Can I make it, or fall on the halfway?
I thought the grownups knew everything when I was little.
At thirty-something, I found that I knew nothing.
Messycow 
I’m 44. This is my last year before it all goes downhill. So far I’ve figured out a way to disguise my thinning hair. I’ve joined WeightWatchers online and combined it with intermittent fasting — both researched obsessively by me to create the magic bullet— and I’ve managed through intense moderation and more than a bit of suffering to lose 11 pounds. 11 pounds the loss of which I still cannot yet see in the mirror nor feel in the fit of my clothing. I’m in the process of researching how to most efficiently get rid of the bingo wings that appeared out of nowhere last year. Did you know you can get cellulite on your arms? Lastly, I’ve finally admitted that all the meditation in the universe cannot solve my anxiety issues, so thankfully there is Klonopin. Except before I have to drive somewhere. Which is all the livelong day.
All this to say that this comic cracked me up, and all your work I’ve read and seen is the work of genius. Keep it up!
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