Friday, January 17, 2014


My birthday's coming...soon... hours left of being in my twenties.

I kept thinking I was going to write some big, dramatic, poignant "I'm Turning 30!" post. But I need big dramatic, poignant feelings to write a big dramatic, poignant post, and those feeling just aren't coming.

Three-oh. It's a big deal. It's a big milestone. It's a big number. But for whatever reason I haven't had big feelings on it. (And you know by now I'm prone to big feelings...) I thought maybe I'd freak out about it, but I haven't. And truth be told, I'm actually kind of excited. Not in the: I'm so excited for my birthday, because birthdays mean birthday cards, birthday parties, birthday presents, birthday cake (I don't actually like cake, but you get the picture) way that I always am. (Though, yes. I am totally excited in that way.) I mean I'm actually excited to BE thirty. It sounds a little bit old. In a good way. In a legitimate way. In a I've been around the block once or twice, don't try to fool me, honey kind of way. (Apparently when you turn thirty you also turn Sourthern, and charmingly snide.) It's an age that conveys some experience, some maturity, and some legitimacy. Trust me, I'm thirty. Or on the flip side: Child, please. Call me when you're thirty. (See? Thirty and Southern aren't that different! In a minute I'm going to start saying "Bless her heart"...I'm thirty. I've earned that right!)

 It's kind of the sweet spot of age, between being too young to know anything and being too old to remember. (Ok, I'm actually hoping that sweet spot is a more like a sweet couple of decades.) Sure, to some it may mark the end of "wild and crazy youth", but let's not kid ourselves: I've been married for eight years, and I'm knee-deep in babies. I think I went ahead and traded most of that craziness already (traded it for a different version of crazy, maybe, but traded none-the-less). I'm settled down, and have been settled for quite some time, so the big looming numbers on my (cheese)cake this year don't have any thing to steal from me. 

So I don't have a list of 30 Awesome Things About Turning 30...And I didn't tackle a bucket list of 30 Things To Do Before Turning 30. But I'm also not throwing a "29 plus 1" party, and I don't have a bucketful of tears about leaving my younger days behind. thirty. It's old, and it's not. It's young, and it's not. It's different...and it's not.
Thirty is me. I am thirty. And I think it's going to be just fine. 

If you're in a nostalgic kind of mood, check out the archives for all our birthday fun.


  1. welcome to the thirty club! Happy Birthday! Let's round out your birthday week with Cheesecake!!

  2. Oh thirty. My sister (who is still in her 20's for a few more months) calls it the "dirty thirties." I think she'll change her tune soon. I personally think you are right. It is a sweet spot as far as age goes. Ironically, I may be suffering from early onset of dementia (a.k.a old age) as for the last several weeks I thought I was thirty-one only to be reminded I turned thirty-two in October. That aside, there's so much more confidence to being thirty in having a bit more wisdom than we did in our 20's but not enough to rival our moms/grandmas. There's comfort in that too.

    Hope you rang in your new year in a special and fun way!

    P.S. Are those glasses prescription? Whether they are or not, we need to talk about my biggest accessory. Eye wear. I broke my favorite glasses a few weeks ago and the frames are discontinued (also in that interim period between warranty being expired, but insurance not kicking in til summer). I'm rocking some tragically old frames of yore right now, but will be shopping for new ones soon. I may solicit your advice. I want something trendy/hipster, but not trendy/hipster you see on everyone every day. Or maybe something trendy/hipster/Tina Fey/very cool librarian. We'll talk. :)