My thirtieth birthday is in about four months. I have no problem with it, it’s kind of cool but also kind of weird.
Most of the mothers I’ve met here are in their thirties so I’ve been the young one. Soon I will be part of the club. But to all the younger ladies I know, I don’t feel quite so much older. I feel like, once I leave this decade, I’ll be in new, “grown” (“old”) category. Maybe they will be kind enough to tell me that’s not the case.
For a few more months, my siblings and I will still all be in our twenties. Every time each of them reaches a milestone I have met, I remember myself at that time. In a few months my brother will graduate college. We’ll have that in common though naturally we experienced it in our own way. Not only did he go to abroad (Oxford!!!!!), he actually has a post-grad plan. I was totally planless. In a few months my sister will turn 25. On my 25th birthday I was toting around an 8 month old and would soon get back to dance class. She has left the studio of our childhood, gone traveling with money she saved after three years with same employer (something I’ve not done) after getting her Associates. She will attend the University of San Francisco this fall!
I’m not sure what 30 will look like to me (or how I’ll look to others), but it ought to be pretty cool. Now to figure out how to celebrate.