Thoughts on turning 30

As my birthday got nearer, people kept asking me if I was freaking out about turning the big Three-O. And I didn't think I was. I didn't feel any different, any older. I thought that it would be just another day, another year. For the past several birthdays, I've had trouble even keeping track how old I was turning. People would ask and I'd throw out a random number (Travis was always nice enough to keep track for me, hehehe). I thought this year would be the same.

And then, my birthday hit me like a mack truck.

It started out well. The kids got up without a fight. We had cinnamon rolls for breakfast (and I didn't even burn them!). They didn't miss the bus, forget their lunches or homework or anything. I think that makes for a pretty successful morning.

The middle was good. I drove over to the Galleria to go to lunch with Travis. We went to Chuy's for lunch (their jalapeno ranch dip is Ah-ma-zing!). Thanks Amy for watching Kate!

The afternoon was great. When I got home from lunch, my friend Jen showed up with a big bag from Ritters. Does life actually get any better than that? (If you haven't heard about my love affair with Ritters, you must not be a regular reader of this blog. Or you must not have ever met me. Or met anyone who has ever met me... Seriously, if you live within a day's drive of Ritters, it's worth it. I promise.)

When the mail came, there was a package from my good friend Holly. A Hakuna Matata mug filled with Godiva chocolates. Mmmmmm. Dinner was yummy. Life was good.

That's when old age caught up with me. We'll just call the first part dementia. Somehow, I thought Megan's dance class started an hour later than it really did. Yeah, so I dropped her off and left to run some errands. 15 minutes AFTER her class ENDED. Thanks to Amy for saving the day. I sent Travis and Jared off to buy Jared a new bike, but I took the van. Did I think about how they'd get a bike in Travis's car? Um, no. Where did the calm, well planned, organized, put together Anna go? Apparently all good things go with old age. (Or with three kids. Jury's still out on that.)

Add to that, I found a white hair. And a big gnarly zit. Really? Couldn't I at least have one or the other? Can't I either be old or young? I could deal with one or the other, but do I really have to buy acne cream and hair dye in the same shopping trip? Happy 30th to me.

Actually, in retrospect, it was a pretty darn good birthday. The whole dance fiasco worked out - they let Megan attend a later class, so she was happy - although on the way home, she asked if kids usually grow up to be like their parents. I said yes. She said that she'd rather be like daddy than like me because he doesn't forget things. Umm, okay then...

Aside from the whole zit/white hair thing, I'd say the day was just about perfect. I think I'll like being 30. And best of all, the celebrating isn't done yet. We've still got chocolate cake to eat (after Travis makes it, hehehe).