The Tween Years Part Deux

Life can be a little confusing once you're past the half-century mark. At 50-something, I'm no longer "middle-aged" unless I plan to live to the ripe old age of 150. I'm too young for senior citizen discounts, but AARP mails membership applications to me every month.

I'm caught in between - like being 11 years old again. A tween, but with stiff joints, failing eyesight, and thinning hair.

Antioxidants, probiotics, free radicals - it's warfare out there! Low carbs, high fiber, gluten free, and whatever the hell fructose is, makes eating right a daily challenge.

I arm myself with age defying facial creams, hair color that promises full coverage of stubborn grays, and multi-vitamins named silver. Sadly, it's been years since I have been "carded" when ordering wine with dinner. My daughter's classmate even thought I was her grandma at a school meeting.

Ironically, my age has worked against me. Though I lobbied my internist and insurance company, both told me I was too young to get the shingles shot. Excuse me? It only works if you're age 60 and over? I've had shingles since I was in my mid-20s! This much needed medication won't work on me now, but hot diggity dang, in six short years it will kick ass on these nasty break outs.

I recently discovered underwear designed to eliminate muffin tops. I foolishly thought the only way to eliminate unsightly muffin tops was to stop eating muffins. Duh! I was wrong! A wide lace waistband and strategically positioned elastic prove to be the engineering marvel us thick waisted women need. And it was on sale, so I bought a half-dozen. Granny panties are on hold...for now.

Middle aged skin care requires scientific acumen

I recently observed my 49th birthday. Since I ventured over to the dark side of 45, I stopped celebrating birthdays. And quite honestly, I often forget when my birthday comes and goes.

This year, I spent 16 hours of my birthday traveling from Corning, New York back home to Honolulu. I hoped that passing through three time zones would reverse the signs of aging, but life can be so unkind.

At my age, something as basic as taking care of my skin has become a challenge. Twenty-five years ago, I merely washed my face and was ready to go. Now I have a cleansing ritual that involves corrective serums, antioxidant rich moisturizers, and assorted concoctions that fight the aging effects of "free radicals". I'm not sure what "free radicals" are, but I'm told they are bad and must be stopped at all cost! And that cost usually means $50 for 1.5 ounces of age-defying night cream.

It takes a Ph.D in chemistry to understand how to keep my skin evenly toned, appropriately lifted, and dewy fresh. A recent column in Oprah magazine offered up this advice to those of us seeking youthful skin.

"Don't apply a retinoid in the morning; the sun will deactivate it. And don't use a glycolic acid serum or moisturizer at the same time you're using a hydroquinone lightening cream, vitamin C serum, or retinoid, because the glycolic acid will deactivate them."

Huh? All of this makes me tired. It makes me want to take a nap. Naps are now one of my best friends. But that's a whole other issue altogether.