The Things You Do in Your 40s

5 minute read

A few weeks ago, just before his 49th birthday, Ryan Tubridy shared a list of things he does now that he never did in his younger years. Taking sneaky naps and having a pair reading glasses in every room were high on his list. I listened along, smiling and laughing, and started mentally compiling my own list. Here’s what I do at 44 that I never did at 34.

Tell everyone they need a new mattress

You need only make the smallest gesture towards a sore back or stiff hip and I’ll start talking to you about mattress firmness. Before you run to the orthopaedic surgeon to discuss joint replacements, come with me to a bed shop. I can, and will, wax lyrical for hours about pocket springs, memory foam and built-in toppers.

Say ‘okay’ or ‘now’ after every simple task

I complete a job, look around and say ‘okay’. To absolutely no one. Some days the ‘okay’ is swapped for ‘now’ or ‘right’, but there’s always a little word before I move onto the next thing.

Revel in good drying weather

A tiny bit of sun and a bit of a breeze and I’m off. I’ll wash everything I can get my hands on and stand staring at the machine until it’s finished spinning. Nothing is safe. I’ll wash clothes, cushion covers, shoes, toys – anything that doesn’t move.

Last year I got a fancy washing line that folds up into the wall when it’s not in use and I swear to God, it’s one of my favourite things.

Keep the rest of the bottle of wine

Thirty-five-year-old me would be deeply shocked at this, but I now drink a glass or two of wine and keep the rest of the bottle. What? Not finish it? Who is this woman? I’m partial to a glass of champagne and I have a special gadget to re-cork that too. It’s revelatory. I can have a nice glass of bubbles and the rest of the bottle can go into the fridge for the next time I fancy a sip. I remember my Dad having a special re-corker when I was young, and I wondered why you’d bother – there’s never anything left in the bottle. Forty-four-year-old me now understands.

Have a gifting area

My friend was laughing at the idea of gifting stations, which they’re so fond of on shows like The Home Edit, and I had to sheepishly admit that I have one. I have two plastic storage bins, one containing emergency presents like Lego, children’s books and fancy candles, and the other gift bags, wine bags and an assortment of cards that cover all eventualities like birthdays, a new home, congratulations, good luck and new baby! I also have a special wrapping paper case that I bought in Ikea a few years ago. It’s the right length, has little stretchy parts to keep them neat, and pockets for ribbons and tapes. It runs a close second to the washing line as my pride and joy.

Hold things up to the light

I have always been very proud of my perfect eyesight, but in recent months I have found myself holding things up to the window to read them. The back of jars, toy instructions and medicines are particularly tricky. I can read, I can type, I can watch TV and drive, but tiny instructions are now my nemesis. I feel like it’s only a matter of months before I use my phone as a torch for restaurant menus.

Wear comfortable shoes

I used to run around town in four-inch heels with absolutely no bother. My sensible flat boots had a two-inch heel. I could have done the Mini Marathon in a wedge, but my days of prancing and dancing on what basically equates to stilts are now over.

A block heel nearly broke me a few weeks ago and I felt so much shame.

I’d like to blame the pandemic for getting me out of practice and moulding my feet into the shape of an M&S slipper, but I’m afraid that no amount of practice is going to get me back into my beloved heels. It’s summer, so wearing Birkenstocks with every outfit feels totally acceptable, but I’ll have to find an autumn/winter version soon. If anyone sees a boot with a sensible heel and some insole cushioning, hit me up!

Think about how to get home and how much sleep you’ll get before you even leave the house

Lockdown after lockdown after lockdown got many of us used to spending long periods of time at home. Cocktail kits enjoyed on the couch in front of a Zoom call constituted a big night out for a long time and leaving the house for a night out started to feel like an ordeal. But I made things worse for myself by also moving out of Dublin. Now if there’s a night out, I spend a huge amount of time figuring out how to get home (or how to convince my husband that it’s in everyone’s best interest for me to stay in a hotel for the night), what time I’ll get to bed and how much sleep I’ll have. Ironically, once I’ve managed to drag myself out, I want to dance all night and forget about my carefully planned sleep schedule – I guess some things never really change.

Refuse to believe time

By far the most ‘in my 40s’ thing I do is to believe that the 90s were, at the very most, 20 years ago. I cannot get my head around the fact that 1992 was 30 years ago – sorry what? Not possible. I also refuse to believe that a person born in 2001 is 21. A person born in 2001 is a newborn baby and you cannot convince me otherwise.