So this is middle age?

I know I'm well and truly there chronologically speaking, but it's only recently I've discovered the real indicator of the mid-life psyche. Happily, it seems to be an innocuous state, and is marked mainly by what I have discovered to be a propensity for smiling indulgently at small naked children playing at the beach, or grinning inanely back at raspberry-blowing babies in supermarket trolleys. In fact, I imagine my face now takes on a beatific glow whenever such moments present themselves. Funny, it was only the other day when I was smiling back at people who ahhed and ohhed at my own children chasing waves in the shallows or wriggling in shopping queues. How funny.

You know what's best about being middle-aged though? Having got there. When people moan about getting older, all I can think of is all the people who haven't had that opportunity. From my observations, I can safely say that getting older is infinitely better than the alternative, and I intend to enjoy all the benefits of sticking around for as long as possible.

By the way and speaking (vaguely) of generational matters, today I have finally given in to months of nagging from my eldest, and created a Facebook page. I lie of course - Madeleine did it for me, walking me gently through the process with a creditable minimum of patronising noises. Why did I give in? Partly to keep up with what my nearest and dearest are up to when they're not at home, but mostly because I can then see all the family photos they post and which I'd never see otherwise. The digital age is wonderful, but maintaining a tangible hold on the evidence is tricky.

So now I suppose I'm both clucking and clicking. Nice.