Am I Aging?

Here's what I hate. Aging. I hate the word. I hate the idea. Sounds like a really unpleasant prolonged stretch that's pulling you toward that place no one wants to go. The wrinkly decayed future. I read somewhere 60 is the new 30. If that's true then I'm around 20, or 18 even! How nice! But then how do you explain the fact that some nights I have so many aches & pains I can't sleep without my ibuprofen? Did I just us the word "my" before a medicine? God that's a sign of aging for sure. At this rate I'll be an advil junkie by the age of....um...25? I chalk the aches up to childbirth times 4. I mean really. How is a person supposed to carry another human being around inside for 9 months, with raging hormones making one's bones all mushy so they can be flexible when the moment for birth is ripe (not to mention what the hormones do to the neurons....half of mine are still fried), push the little human out of the body through a tiny orifice, and have no lingering effects? No not lingering, they're permanent. And by the way, a 9 plus pound baby is not a little human. It's practically ready to drive a car. A lady in my exercise class (who's about 32 if you use the 60/30 theory) said it's arthritis. That word is hereby banned in my presence. I much prefer the hormone theory. When Dad turned 60, I asked him how it felt to be 60. He replied mysteriously "Time....the implacable enemy." Well, not so mysterious if you know Dad. Actually I have no desire to go back in time. I liked being in my teens and 20's. I drove a really nice Mustang. I graduated from college & law school, got married, bought a house, had a bambino. All good stuff. But life was not without, shall we say, missteps (I'll leave the rest to your imagination). 30's were good too but life was still in flux, family still being fashioned, scary challenges had to be faced down. Now I want to freeze time. Joyful family around me. Hugs and kisses. New creative paths abound. Fun vacations. Confidence. Completeness. Giddy anticipation of kids' futures. To use a cliche, my cup runneth over. As good as it gets. If life is a box of chocolates, mine is all dark chocolate coconut filled truffle caramel pecan. Nary an orange cream in sight. So I guess I shouldn't care too much about aging. All that chocolate in my life is probably better than botox anyway. I wonder if it would make a good facial.....