What do you mean I'm OLD?

After a week of an absolutley wretched stomach virus, I have finally ventured outside on this beautiful, cool Georgia morning to watch Patch as he plays in the yard. As I settle myself down in a comfy porch chair, I ready myself for a few peaceful moments of clear thinking and quiet reflection. Ever the eager writer, I open my laptop to see what thoughts want to spill onto the screen as I'm enjoying the peacefulness of the birds chirpping.
And then it happens.
What the----???
OH MY GOD IN HEAVEN-
There, in my computer screen I see it. The face of my mother; not from a photo that had been previously downloaded. No, the image I saw before my eyes, was from my reflection on the screen staring back at me. My God. I have turned into my mother.

Okay, folks, nothing against my mom, because she is an attractive woman who on her worst day is still much more put together than I am on my best, BUT the fact remains that she is my MOTHER, and mothers by their very nature are OLD, which of course I most certainly am not, thank you very much.
I should have seen this coming, really. Over the past few years I have noticed the gray hairs becoming more dense, the wrinkles getting deeper and the pounds, well let's just say they seem to be sticking around these days. I have to face the facts. I'm not a kid anymore. (quick, resuscitation!! I think my heart just stopped!)
This past week we celebrated Tucker's birthday. I have been celebrating birthdays with him for a lifetime it seems, but it still was jarring to me that he was turning 35. We met as teenagers. I was under 100 pounds and had green hair. He was solid muscle and ran a bazillion miles a day. We both could eat Waffle House at 2 a.m. and then feel fine when we woke up five hours later. Our biggest fear in those days was that Tucker would be seen leaving my dorm too late at night by the Resident Director. The thought of that now is like a straight shot of prozac right to the soul! Oh, those were the days.
But, now, I am married to a 35 year old man and apparently he is married to my mother. Ouch.

We always thought we were "cool, young parents." We were; 13 years ago when we had Emily. But now we aren't cool or young. We are those people you see at the grocery store who are holding onto each other as they push their cart around, seemingly oblivious to the stragglers that are behind them whining and pushing one another.

I think the weirdest part for me is that I don't feel like "my mother." (whatever that feels like) I know Tucker doesn't feel like the ancient 35 year old that he has become either. Inside we are still the teenagers with the cute bodies and fast metabolisms.

I guess that is why it is so jarring to look in the mirror and see an "old" person looking back.