Not only is today National Housewife’s Day (which I celebrated last year), National Sandwich Day (here’s my favorite recipe) and National Men Cook dinner Day (ha!), it’s also my birthday.
Today I’m 33. It’s weird.
There’s something about the double digits that kind of freaks me out in a way that hasn’t happened before.
30 kinda sucked but mostly because it wasn’t a big deal to anyone else but 31 and 32 just slipped by, another day in the life of a busy mommy. And I think that’s why this year feels different.
It’s been a hard past few months. Trying to juggle everything in my basket (I upgraded from a plate long ago!) feels overwhelming on my best days and completely unbearable on my worst.
And now I’m 33, on the slippery down-slope to “advanced maternal age” which totally shouldn’t matter since my baby having days are DONE, but it still feels kind of sad and scary.
I remember watching shows like The Real World when I was in college and thinking about how much older the people were than I was (a few years seemed like a lot back then). And now I see shows like that and feel like I’m still that age. Except I have four kids and I have to remind myself that I’m more than just a few years older them!
Aging is weird.
But the good news is even though I may be getting older, so are my kids. And while sometimes that makes me overwhelmingly sad, it also means they’re becoming more independent and helpful (when they want to be.)
Doodle screamed “Happy Birthday!” to me as soon as he saw me this morning and then made me birthday toast (with a nice thick layer of cinnamon sugar!)
And the girls have been working on presents for weeks.
I guess that’s the one perk of growing older: having more people around to love on me every day of the year.
Happy Birthday!
Thank you!