The Best Kept Secret Blog - Those Darn Wobbly Bits

There is a scene in the second Bridget Jone's Diary movie where Bridget (Renée Zelwigger) is attempting to discreetly dress before her lover, Mark Darcy (Colin Firth) wakes up.

When he does roll over and sees her awkwardly wrapped in a sheet, struggling to pull her clothes on, he asks what she is doing.

"I didn't want you to see the wobbly bits", she replies.

He smiles lecherously, pulls her into bed and informs her that he likes the wobbly bits.

If Bridget had been 45, I'm not so sure things would have turned out the same way.

My husband got me thinking about wobbly bits this week. His wobbly bits are causing me many sleepless nights these days. (And no, I don't mean in a good way.) They're in his throat. He's middle-aged and the muscle tone in his throat is decreasing, causing him to snore and causing me to either bunk in with one of the kids or set up for the night on the couch.

He's not alone. We all suffer from wobbly bits as we age.

My friend E. is terrified of "bat wings" - the look our upper arms get as they lose their tone. "Wear a sleeveless top?!" she screeched on a recent shopping trip. "Are you crazy?"

Another acquaintance that I met at a networking function confided she was shocked when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror while blow drying her hair. With her head leaning to one side, she noticed that her face had kind of slid and her cheeks, eyes and mouth were now puddled together. Totally freaked out, she quickly popped her head back up so her features could, more or less, assume their proper positions.

I had a similar experience this summer when I was working out. Laying on my side while doing leg lifts, I happened to glance at my stomach. Instead of seeing the taut six-pack that I'd been working so hard to achieve, there was a lava flow of flesh making it's way toward the floor. Switching sides only gave the fitness nuts on the other side of the gym their own view on my Mount St. Helen's gut.

And no discussion about wobbly bits would be complete without talking about our eyes. That's right. As we age, the ability of our eye's lens to focus on near objects decreases. Why? Because it becomes, you guessed it, wobbly.

This is why I must get my children to thread needles for me and why I can't read the directions on a their cold medicine bottles to save my life. "Sure, I think it's fine to have four tablespoons at your height and weight. But here, just thread this for Mommy first in case you pass out."

So Bridget Jones, you get out of that sheet. There's nothing to worry about now because, honey, you ain't seen nothing yet.