Last month I turned 30. The big THREE OH, and I am just now beginning to come out of the denial stage and am moving on to acceptance, and what better way to really embrace it than with it's own blog post?
I think I would venture to say that having 4 babies in my 20s has kept me young, and that might be true, but I don't actually know since I have never been 30 without 4 kids. So, maybe I'm a good 5 years more haggard than I would be otherwise, but let's not think through that potential sad fact.
Moving onward and downward with some confessions of this 30-year-old mother of 4.
+ A couple of weeks ago I discovered that the local thrift store does home pick-ups and I made a call and scheduled one for today. We had an enormous pile in our storage room that was growing by the day due to my never ending desire to get rid of all the things. Words can barely describe my excitement over the pile being hauled away and the thought of a clean laundry room once again and today... today they came. No person should be as excited as I am about this. I have already done one unnecessary load of laundry and I am contemplating another, just so I can go stand in my storage/laundry room. Obviously I took a picture.
+ I haven't purchased a swimsuit since I was hugely pregnant with Bernadette and the one bought I found on a plus size rack at Target for less than $20. Needless to say it was the most awkward fit ever since it was made for a woman with a bust roughly 5 times my size and a belly that didn't protrude like a sideways watermelon (hint: just because you match the weight of someone who is plus size does not mean you will fit into their clothing). The other day the girls were talking excitedly about all the fun we are going to have this summer out in our baby pool-- because we go real big for summer over here-- which I frequently floated with them in it last summer because I was huge and pregnant again. They asked me which bathing suit I would wear and I let them know that I don't own one, they were appalled at this and have not stopped planning a new suit for me since. Bernadette came home with this little art project that she made at catechesis of me dreaming (or praying about?) my new bathing suit:
They have no idea that I will be avoiding that purchase with all of my being, I don't have the heart to break it to them.
+ I have not had a legit pedicure since late in my pregnancy with Lucy-- so almost 3 years-- and my feet look like little post-apocalyptic waste lands with a little nail polish. The thing is that I hate pedicures and I hate foot maintenance so I am thinking I should just ignore it and make it a thing that I do when I am 40. That's disgusting.
+ I found my first grey hair a few days before my birthday and I almost cried. I know how absurd it is that I care that I am getting old, but I think it is a result of being such a middle child. My default is to always think that people are older than me and to always be intimidated by people. I am perpetually 21 in my mind and I like it there. As opposed to Mike who has been mentally 60 since he turned 21, we make a great couple. I found a second grey a couple weeks later and was much more emotionally stable about it, so I am getting there.
+ I look forward to going to the grocery store like most 30-year-old women probably look forward to going out on the town.
+ I bought a romper at Forever 21 and I'll likely never actually wear it but having it in my drawer makes me feel younger so I'm not taking it back.
+ I fairly recently screamed my head off at a security guard for blocking my way onto campus and nearly causing me to get in an accident. I think I almost made him cry. The girls were thoroughly terrified of me.
+ I made cupcakes for Bernadette's feast day last week and ate almost every single one over the course of 4 days. They were so good.
+ I just signed up for a free online Theology course at Notre Dame and I can't stop feeling like Jill Taylor on "Home Improvement" when she goes back to school for her master's. The very fact that I keep thinking of this proves that having kids may keep you feeling young, but it does not keep you cool.
I am indeed 30, there is no escaping it.