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I'm feeling really old right now. I just helped my 12-year-old son with his homework. He had an entire page of math problems where he was asked to figure the area of circles. Yup, you've got it ?r^2.

I saw that and thought, “You've got be kidding me! It was only nine years ago that he was still potty-training and now he's already learning about pi?” Yeah, that's pi, not pee.

So maybe that is how this works? They pee in their diapers, and do pi once their out? Because that's exactly how it feels!

How did this happen so fast? How did we go from patty-cake to pi? He's only in 6th grade! Did I do pi in 6th grade? Maybe I did. Maybe I'm just too old to remember. (I've had four children, and I'm thoroughly convinced that pushing during delivery does more than bring forth new life. I think it kills brain cells. I've noticed a direct relation between each delivery and my decreasing ability to recall. So maybe I did do pi in 6th grade.)

But wasn't I more grown up than he is? I must have been. I remember 6th grade, and I was so much more mature than he isโ€ฆwasn't I?

I guess I have to accept the fact that I'm now at the point that I thought was “old” when I was twelve.

The truth is, I did have to start dyeing my hair last year. For the three or four years previous to that I was just plucking out the grays. I'd see one starting to meander it's way through the black on top of my head, so I'd grab the tweezers and yank that bugger right out. Then early last year I realized it was taking me a good 40 minutes in front of the mirror, once every two weeks or so, to get all of those obnoxiously wiry, white hairs off my head. I finally admitted that it was time for Clairol and I to become acquainted lest I make myself bald.

And hey, speaking of hair, what's the deal with the ones under the chin? Hello? No one ever warned me that part of a woman's aging process included turning into a man. Someone tell me I'm not going to have to have my prostate checked. We don't miraculously end up with one of those, too, do we?

I guess I've never really felt my age. I'm turning 39 this summer. One more year to the big 4-0. But, my birthdays have never bothered me. Yeah, another year, another numerical digit higher, so what? It's just a number. I never understood why some women get so upset about turning another year older.

The thought of turning 40 doesn't bother me. It's not the number. It's the thought that I might actually feel older. I mean really, what's next? Dentures? Those inflatable donuts to sit on in the car? Ben Gay? Depends? (Well, let's be honest ladies. Those of us who have had children know that we probably could have started using Depends right after we started delivering babies. There's something about pushing an object that's roughly the size of a small watermelon through theโ€ฆwell, let's just say the whole process sort of messes things up and makes us run to the nearest restroom every time we laugh, cough, or sneeze.)

So, okay. The kids are growing at roughly the same rate as my back end too quick for me. But, I can handle it, right?

This is, after all, the plan hubby and I have had all along; get married, have kids, raise them to be honest, faithful, dependable, trustworthy, God-fearing, God-loving adults, release them into the world, then spend the rest of our lives enjoying the same one-on-one focus were we able to have with each other when we first got married and it was just the two of us. Of course, this time it will be with the added benefit of having grandchildren to spoil then send back home to mom and dad.

So, we're just a little further into that plan! We're making progress toward the goal! That's a good thing! The empty-nest/grandchildren part of it is still quite a way off. I'm only 38. I'm still youngโ€ฆenough. And youth is partly a matter of attitude, isn't it? Of course it is!

Yes, my son is doing square roots, solving for x, and using pi. And so what! Inside I can be as youthful as I ever was, and if I oh, sorry to cut this short. It's 8 o'clock. Time for my Centrum Silver.

Alison Moore Smith is a 61-year-old entrepreneur who graduated from BYU in 1987. She has been (very happily) married to Samuel M. Smith for 40 years. They are parents of six incredible children and grandparents to two astounding grandsons. She is the author of The 7 Success Habits of Homeschoolers.