I celebrated my birthday a few days ago. Last year was the big 3-0 so this year came and went with not much more then a thought and cheerful “Happy Birthday” from others. However, I have been thinking a lot about it. Last year I just stood on the edge of my thirties, hanging out with all the cool people who think its hip and with it to be 30. I’ve heard a lot of people say that “some of the best years of their lives were in their thirties”. Now this year, this year I am “in my thirties”. There is no getting past it. One year behind me and I am knee deep in it, swimming around with all the other people enjoying their 30’s.
So far being 30 and now 31 has been pretty monumental. I had my second baby, was sleep deprived for a good chunk of my 30th year, and realized that, once again, I can keep a human alive if I just try really hard and take deep breaths when it gets hard. I figured I would really enjoy and relax during my 30’s once the bags under my eyes cleared, Mikayla stopped eating dirt and rocks, and I could sit and enjoy a drink poolside instead of worrying about two little ones drowning. Yup. Once I hit 35 I will be sure to enjoy the rest of my 30’s.
That is what I thought, until I came across this article titled “Women Peak at 31” when I was catching up on the news on the internet. I better grab my little black dress, make some sexy dinner reservations, call the sitter, and head out for a night on the town with my husband, I only have 363 days of beauty left before it goes downhill.
So much for the best years of my life. :)
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