Crown of glory, huh?

I've recently celebrated another birthday, one that has officially landed me smack dab in the middle of my 30's. Along with more candles to blow out, each year brings with it more signs I am definitely no longer in my 20's such as the decrease in circulatory flow, unfamiliar creaking of bones upon moving, the worsening aches and pains caused by pregnancy and the extra stores of fat as if my body were preparing for my and my baby's survival in the midst of a seven-year famine. But most unsettling of all, I've discovered another sign - strands of hair devoid of all color. Amongst the abundance of silky, red strands (all-natural, of course - NOT), I've started noticing these hairs that curiously bring to mind the song from Sesame Street "One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong." At first, I convinced myself it was highlighted hair - lighter than the rest and simply blonde. After all, not only do I color my hair red, I also highlight it. So sure, that must be it. But many moons later, these "highlighted" hairs are rising up and proving their snowy existence by showing up against my ever darkening natural hair color (which I just don't get - why would my hair color get naturally darker as I age while some just get white?). I have now joined an exclusive club of people who look in the mirror and spy hairs just waiting to be plucked. The practice of dying my hair which was always a luxury will at some point become a necessity. That's just sad to me.

If the amount of salt in my pepper is proportional to the number of children and their accompanying mess contained within my small house, then I should bless my lucky stars I can still count on one hand how many gray hairs I've found. But I've always heard wisdom comes with graying hair. So how come I don't feel wise enough yet?