Why I am still very trendy and am not getting old. This year.

This is not actually me. In case you were wondering.

My son’s favourite game at the moment is to tell us all how old we are. He is two, the baby is three months (give or take a few months, it’s hard to keep up with her to be fair), Mummy is OLD and Daddy is ANCIENT.  

I obviously derive tremendous amusement at the ‘ancient’ (and it’s not far from the truth for the poor old Captain) – but am not overly enamoured with the ‘old’ reference. Because I am quite youthful. In my head. And in photos. That have been photoshopped.

I do not feel that having children is keeping me young. In fact, I think they are causing me more wrinkles than any all night bender in my 20s. (And frankly – some mornings I think I got more joy out of the benders than the kids. Don’t tell people that. It’s a sure fire way to get chucked out of the Mother’s Club to admit something like that. Well, you try having a shower with three people in there with you.) No, the children are definitely making me older. But not OLD.

I will not go gently my friends. Oh no. Rage I will. I am sticking with Facebook. And Twitter. And my iPhone. And Google Wave. And The Wire. And fashion mags. And running. And big sunglasses. And going to the pub. And cool restaurants. And indie music. OK not indie music. Am crap at indie music. But I totally understand Proenza Schouler and the Balmain shoulder (see what I did there? You TOTALLY don’t know who she is do you? I do. At least, I think it’s a she. Maybe it’s a he. DAMN IT.) Anyway – I WILL stay young. I will not be embarrassing and old.  I am hip to the groove man and staying here.  This year I still have the energy. Or am in blissful ignorance perhaps? My kids are too young to accuse me of daggy dancing (my husband has been doing it for a decade so no change there) or to come up with pop culture references I don’t know about.

The Captain did have the gall to suggest that someone ‘your age shouldn’t be showing that much flesh’ when I tried on a new top on the weekend. It might have been a clever ploy for me to return overpriced designerware but if that was the case, his ingenious little plan failed – I am more determined than ever to wear it. And can I point out that we are not talking about Katie Price-in-Ibiza-style-hotpants – we are talking a bit of upper arm and a cut out top. Perfectly acceptable even for an old person. And can I reiterate – I am NOT old.

(Well, not that old. I have suspected for some time that I am not quite as young as once was. Do NOT tell anyone but the following signs are worrying me:

• I wear eye wrinkle cream more often than glitter eyeshadow.
• I have a present cupboard and a wrapping drawer.
• I get sore calves when wearing heels that are too high.
• Wine stays in the wine rack for more than a week.
• I cannot wear a Relax tee-shirt, fluro sunglasses or jelly sandals.
• It’s been over a year since I saw the dawn break in a good way.
• I have two children.)

My god – I have TWO children. When did THAT happen?

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