Thirty

Thursday was my thirtieth birthday.  Thirty.  30.
It's a bit crazy to me that I'm 30.  I think I'm entering that time of life when I'm always going to feel younger than I am.  I hear that happens.  It's odd and a bit magical.

My birthday was a great day.  Ian got to go in a bit later and come home a tad earlier.  He took the girls to school, I got an afternoon pedicure (where I scarcely talked to the technician at all, eyes closed, massage chair on gentle knead.  It was glorious).  Ian gave me three tiny tanzanites from his family's recent trip to Africa.  One for each of our children.  I get to design a ring with them.  It's really the perfect present.  The girls made me the most adorable cards and picked out my birthday cake from our favorite bakery.  We opened out of town family gifts before sushi dinner.  I felt very spoiled and loved.

One of my favorite moments yesterday was lying on the floor looking through the one photo album I have with pictures of me as a baby and young child.  The girls laid down with me and Felix crawled over.  We all sat turning pages looking at mama as a tiny girl, remarking on similarities between them and me, asking questions about my life. It was so sweet and special.

I'll admit there's been a bit of angst on my part entering into my 30th year.  It feels momentous to say goodbye to my 20s.  A decade that held so much greatness.  College, graduation, marriage, moving, home owning, working, birthing, mothering.  What could my thirties hold that could possibly beat that?  Perhaps not as many milestones and changes (please?!) but surely more settling, into this life I started in my twenties, into myself, who I am as a big grown up girl.

I think I'm really going to like 30.  Thanks for sticking with me.