Thirty. Three - zero. The Big Three-Oh. As in not twenty something any more. As in half way to sixty. Midlife you could say. Who me?! Grey-haired, wrinkled-under-the-eyes, sweat-suit-wearing, mother-of-four (almost), minivan-driving, mortgage-paying, dinner-by-5 and bed-by-11? Yep, thats me--glamorous and exciting thirty-year-old me! But really, aside from the astronomically HUGE number, I don't think 30 is so bad. What 30 lacks in the wild, carefree, spontaneity of the 20s, it makes up for in a feeling of self-discovery, inner-contentment, and maybe even maturity. I feel more at peace with who I am, what I am, what I believe, what my purpose is, and where I am going than I have ever before experienced. Clarity. It feels good! Now if I could figure out how to have that itty-bitty, firm, tanned little bikini body of ten years ago, combined with the emotional/spiritual stability I feel I'm just now beginning to enjoy--that would be the best of both worlds!
|Spent the birthday morning at the urgent care clinic with my wheezy, asthmatic Maxy. See? Glamorous.|
|I felt so guilty for traumatizing Max at the doctor's office that we stopped by the bakery to grab these little cupcakes. Ha! I can still be spontaneous!|
Aaron, I love you to bits, but don't ever go into the party-planning business. The night before my birthday, Aaron apologetically confessed that he hadn't made any plans for my birthday celebration. Luckily for us both, my expectations were relatively low--and, I am a planner! So, we left the boys with Nana and Papa (thank you!) and spent the evening doing two of my favorite things: shopping and eating! Being that I am in semi-denial about my seven-month prego state, the shopping wasn't the most successful. But, I did get to spend an evening out with the man I love the very most, I felt very special and very loved, and thats what counts. And, just so you know, honey, I'm taking a raincheck on that shopping spree ;)