Spaghetti, Meatballs, and Realizing I’m 40

Hey! How’s it going with you? What have you been up to this past week?

Yesterday, it hit me  - I’m getting older. No jokes.

It wasn’t one of those “fall-out-of-the-sky” realizations. No, this message has been dropping little hints here and there for a while. But yesterday, the memo came in bold, underlined, and stamped URGENT.

On my 40th birthday, people kept telling me things like, “Welcome to 40, things will be different.” And I’d laugh and say, “My case is different.” Well… my case is different, alright! I now lean on the mercies of God daily, because why am I suddenly more tired than usual? A creak here, a groan there, and a quick massage later, I’m realizing I can’t do as much in one day as I used to without needing a recovery plan.

Anyway, back to the gist! We were expecting a guest, and the menu was spaghetti and meatballs (o fe je spaghetti?) with puff-puff for dessert. Easy, right? That’s what I thought. I’ve made meatballs from scratch plenty of times  - no biggie. But this time, surprise! The ground meat I bought wasn’t beef, it was turkey. Well, there's always a first time, right?

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I mixed in my spices, realized I was out of breadcrumbs, so I used flour instead. Normally, I don’t bother with baking powder if using flour for ground beef, so I skipped it for the turkey too. ERROR. My first red flag? The balls felt limp and light in my palm. My gut (AND the Holy Spirit!) told me something was off, but I ignored it because I needed to start frying puff-puff quickly as I was running out of time. Big mistake!

The first batch of turkey meatballs came out looking… confused. Not round, not golden, just sitting there like akara that didn’t see love. The second batch was better, but by then, I was already knee-deep in frying puff-puff, boiling spaghetti, and making a rainbow salad. By the time I was done, my feet ached in places I didn’t know existed. My whole body was groaning, my mind was exhausted, and I still hadn’t eaten all day except for one cup of coffee.

Finally, I plated my food, creaked into my chair, and forced myself to eat. The food tasted amazing, but my tired was very tired. Now let me give you the icing on the cake - the guest was a no-show! Haha, I almost cried. All that effort, for nothing? As I lay in bed afterward, I thought, "All this drama for spaghetti and meatballs?" And my body replied, Hey! You’re 40 now.

But no, I refuse to let 40 be an excuse to get tired every time I attempt something. So now, I’m looking for the nearest gym. I get am before no be property, so I need to remind this body who’s boss.

How about you? How are you aging - gracefully or not-so-gracefully? What’s your plan to stay strong? Share with me, I’ll be reading (and I promise to abide).

You are loved,

Ema