How A Children’s Book Motivated Me To Take Care Of My Body…Parts

It happened one evening, shortly after my youngest son went back to college. In his closet, I discovered a box of books he saved from his childhood. The first book in the box was one of his favorites, Parts, a picture book by Ted Arnold (For those of you familiar with children’s books). 

I sat on his empty bed and reread the book after many years, marveling at how aptly the words capture both a child’s curiosity about his body and my current mid-life situation.

To sum it up, the young narrator discovers a disturbing trend: There’s fuzz in his belly button his toes are peeling and something just fell out of his nose. The last straw is a loose tooth that convinces him of the awful truth: his parts are coming unglued!

Parts deals with the things our bodies shed. It reassures kids that this shedding of our parts is all very normal and nothing to be upset about.

I read the first page and couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

” I just don’t know what’s going on

Or why it has to be

But every day it’s something worse.

What’s happening to me?”

Do you say this to yourself on the regular too?

It’s a recurring thought in my own head. Not in rhyme, but in context — what I say to myself when seeing the effects of time on my body — the disturbing signs that have me convinced too that my parts are coming unglued, or more accurately, loose.

Even the illustration on the cover of the book is the same as the look on my face when I look in the mirror and think, WTF?

 

It got me thinking. Bodies will do what bodies will do. There’s a design flaw. Bodies will decline. And yes, it’s all very normal. Bodies shed and shift and morph…especially as the years accumulate. But just because it’s normal doesn’t mean we have to accept it.

It prompted me to question my motives, discover the reason I spend so much time trying to alter and mold and reshape my body into something it no longer is: a younger version of itself — one that doesn’t give in to gravitational forces.

What I’ve discovered is this: the purpose behind my efforts to keep my body at a certain level of non-aging is empowerment.

Yes, empowerment.

When it comes to how our bodies change as we age, our actions are critical. The body’s decline is imminent unless we intervene. The colossal forces of gravity will succeed if we don’t counteract it. Our task then is to do the work necessary to bring the body closer to youth and farther from deterioration.

It’s a constant battle and eventually, we will lose the war, I know that. Inexplicable body changes await us all. All we can do is prolong the victory for as long as possible, win the small battles, and continue the fight against the signs of aging. Because if we throw our hands up in defeat, our parts will come undone.

So I tweak and modify and prod and poke. I cardio and lift and stretch and massage and laser and microneedle and moisturize and do whatever I can. And when I think I can’t do it anymore, I keep doing it. Even if it’s an uphill fight. Even if it’s hard. Even if aging will ultimately win.

Doing this gives me strength, both physically and mentally. Because now I can still make the glue stick. Now I can kick the aging can down the road for a bit longer. I may not make my body young, but I will make it younger.

So I invite you to do more than throw up your hands. Do everything you can to keep your parts from unraveling, even in the midst of aging — especially in the midst of aging.

If you want real change, you must do real work.

And in the spirit of the book that sparked my latest verbal vomiting, here’s my little midlife version of Parts. I needed some entertainment, something to get my mind off the fact that my son is moving across the country in a few days.

I just don’t know what’s going on

Or what’s this all about

But every day it’s something worse.

I’m starting to freak out.

I think it was 10 years ago

I first became aware –

That in my brush were caught discolored pieces of my hair.

I stared at them amazed and thought, No freaking way.

I can’t possibly be old enough for my brown hair to go gray.

And recently I was faced with a particularly hard riddle

I lifted up my shirt

to find extra flesh around my middle.

I stared at it in disbelief and wondered,

What’s the meaning?

But then I understood. It was the burgers I was eating.

And this was so depressing

even the neighbors heard my cries

There are lumps and bumps and dimples laced over both my thighs!

I looked up at the heavens

And I began to pray

Hoping that my prayers would make my cellulite go away

Last night I looked in the mirror and shouted, What the heck?”

I thought I saw a turkey, but it was the waddle on my neck.

It’s unfair what is happening; it’s hard to get a grip

the zipper that holds my youth together is starting to unzip

Soon I’ll be exposed.

It will be clear to see

That I’ve been lying all along and not really 33

 

Hey, I’m no Dr. Seuss, but I hope this gave you a chuckle. One thing I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is that you better develop a sense of humor, right?

xoxo