Getting older is a natural part of life.

As I have aged, I have mellowed out, which has lowered my stress level and made these later years more enjoyable. While I was never a fashionista, I no longer worry much about what I wear. I have discovered that dresses are oh so much more comfortable than pants and shirts.

Dresses do a better job of gracefully expanding with an ever-changing waistline. Wearing a dress to work not only looks more professional but also spares me the early morning struggle of matching tops to bottoms, perfect for getting dressed quickly in a sleep-induced fog. All I must do is grab a dress, throw it on, and hope it’s facing the right direction.

 I admire older women who wear flawless makeup, who seem to defy time with a swipe of concealer, a touch of blush and beautifully mascaraed eyes. I, on the other hand, was never much for makeup.

In a moment of ambition, I attended a class at Ulta to finally learn the secrets. It turns out that it was not the technique I lacked, it was the ability to execute it.  With shaking hands and aging eyesight, bringing a mascara wand anywhere near my delicate eyeball was a disaster waiting to happen. The results were usually tragic, resulting in raccoon eyes and smeared lids. I have since decided to embrace my “natural beauty”.  I look old because I am old, and there is nothing wrong with that.

As an older mother, I no longer worry about diaper changes, school meetings, scraped knees, and later worries about possible drug and alcohol use, (with the children, not myself,) and pregnancies, (with the children, not myself.) Now, when my adult children hit a bump in the road, say they need money for bail (just kidding) or a costly car repair, I can sympathize, but it is no longer my responsibility. I have officially passed the parenting baton.

These days, they get to deal with the scraped knees, school meetings, and mysterious science projects that require glitter and a last-minute trip to the store. I get to be a grandparent. I enjoy snuggles and giggles, trips to Chuck E Cheese and Dave and Busters, and the sundaes. It is one of the sweetest perks of growing older.

Sure, there are more trips to the doctor now, but I have found the silver lining. I actually enjoy sitting in the waiting room flipping through outdated copies of People magazine. I may not know what half the celebrities are famous for, but I am oddly invested in their lives. Who knew that Miley Cyrus’ gorgeous long hair was made up of 250 hair extensions? Best of all, a doctor’s appointment usually means lunch out afterwards, so it is like a little field trip.

The biggest advantage to being older? I am not busy, busy, busy anymore. Life has finally slowed down enough for me to breathe, and more importantly, to nap. Taking a nap now feels like a luxury, not a sign of laziness. I no longer feel guilty for closing my eyes in the middle of the day, curled up under my comfy blanket, letting my head melt into my cloud-like down pillow.

 Like a kid obsessed with video games, I now have time to indulge in my own screen-time pleasures on my iPad. My friend and I play Words with Friends daily. As former Scrabble fanatics, this game brings back sweet memories of our epic Friday night marathons, always after dinner at Chelo’s, (complete with dessert), and a shopping spree at Ann & Hope.

Then there is Candy Crush, my guilty pleasure.

I am currently on level 7,453, which either says something about my persistence or my impressive ability to waste time. Between word games, mindless candy-matching, and Judge Judy reruns on the television, my extra time is full to the brim.

Frank Lloyd Wright once said, “The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes.” I could not agree more. With fewer responsibilities, more time to savor simple pleasures, and the wisdom to appreciate what really matters, I am genuinely enjoying my beautiful old age. It is a rich, full chapter, one of my favorites so far.