Thirty years ago today, an 18 year old girl (would be turning 19 three days later) was in the hospital. After many hours of painful labor followed by some pushing, out came a baby.
That baby was me.
When I was 18 myself, and even in my early 20s, I remember thinking Wow, my mom had a kid at this age? And by 21, she had TWO KIDS? It seemed crazy to me at the time. And now that I’m a mom myself, it seems even crazier. I guess at any age and life situation, motherhood is scary, but 18? it’s just further proof that my mom is Awesome. Just thought you should know.
So. I’m 30 today. People have been asking me if I’m sad or upset or depressed about turning 30. And honestly, I’m not. I suppose you could say I’ve made lemonade from lemons- I used it as an excuse to buy myself My New
Lover Camera and I’m having my husband take me to a fancy dinner out on Saturday night. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to spoil myself!
I’m not really dreading turning 30, and I think it’s because I am happy with where I am in my life. Overjoyed, even. I have an awesome husband (Hi honey! *waves*) who lets me have the tv when I want it and puts up with my craziness and loves me. Together we have a beautiful daughter who, even though she drives us nuts some days, is the light of our life and I would never ever ever want to stop being her mommy. I have a successful business and I get to work at home in my pajamas doing something that I absolutely love- so much so that I do it for free in my spare time. So basically, I’ve got a pretty good thing going. So what if I’m a year older, right?
I think back to who I was at the beginning of this decade. It was 1999, I turned 20. I was a sophomore in college, I had no money or job or even a clue with what I wanted to do with my life. All of that feels like a LIFETIME ago, which makes me wonder: What will my life be like in another 10 years, when I turn 40?
The highlight of my day today was when I asked Maggie to sing Happy Birthday to me, and she did. Complete with ‘Happy Birthday to Mommy!’ and everything. My heart melted and oozed out my eyeballs. (She also tried to convince me that it was HER birthday too. I told her Mommy is selfish and wants her own birthday all to herself, thanks. You had yours already, kid.)
Anyway. Thirty is really not that scary, at least not to me. Time marching forward is scary, obviously, and this past week especially has made me remember not to fritter away moments. But it’s just another day, another year past, another birthday.
Another excuse for my free Cold Stone birthday sundae. w00t!