I recently celebrated my thirtieth birthday.
WHAT?! THIRTY?!!?
I know. Try not to be shocked by my age. We can all agree that I barely look a day over twenty-three. I am as confused as you about what happened to my twenties. I feel like just yesterday I was dancing the night away with all the other single, childless, hot-bodied people of the world….Then….BAM! I had a baby at twenty-five. Talk about a total life change!
Just when I was recovering from the shock of raising an infant and patting myself on the back for managing to keep her alive past her first birthday….BAM! I had another baby. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Consequently, the last half of my twenties seemed to just disappear.
Twenty-six? Was I ever twenty-six? I have no recollection of ever being twenty-six.
Twenty-seven! I think it was such a horrific period of sleep deprivation, weight gain and maternity clothes that I am trying to black out that whole year too.
See ya never, twenty-eight! I remember turning twenty-eight and feeling like there was still time….
Oh, twenty-nine. You left me too soon. Whhhhyyyy???!
POOF! GONE!
Here we are today. I’m suddenly thirty damn years old, and just like that I had to start shopping at Ann Taylor. Why is it required that thirty-something moms wear Ann Taylor? It is one of the many mysteries of the universe! God only knows where I’ll end up shopping at forty. At least I have ten more years to figure that out.
So now I am wearing a sensible jumper from Loft, and I have managed to lose the second half of my precious twenties to butt and nose wiping.
But did I really lose my twenties???
NO WAY!!!
I just spent them in a much different way than most people do. Instead of climbing corporate ladders and going out until 1:00 AM every night, I was changing diapers and waking up for 1:00 AM feedings. Instead of posting bikini selfies from my latest Vegas trip, I was a pregnant whale keeping my fingers crossed that I could someday just look acceptable in my pre-pregnancy clothing. I was in the mommy zone. My world revolved around my babies. I remember every single first of theirs – so who cares if I I don’t remember my twenty-seventh birthday?! It wasn’t always glamorous, but it was so worth it!
My twenties really were gone in a flash, but they were the best years of my life. I watched my tiny babies turn into little people people right before my eyes. I would wipe those little booger noses for the next 20 years if I could. I remember saying to myself out of frustration one morning, “I can’t wait until they are old enough to dress themselves!” Now one of them is old enough to dress herself, and it’s a little sad. I offer my help, and she rips her socks away defiantly, “Mom! Let me do it myself!” The next five years are going to go just as fast as the past five. My babies are going to keep growing up and I don’t want to miss one minute of it.
I am lucky to be a young, healthy mom. I can run, jump and climb right alongside my kids at the playground. I can play tag and hide-and-seek. I can teach my kids how to do cartwheels. I can bounce with them in the bouncy house. I can keep up with every activity they do, and I LOVE IT! I would gladly give up some more of my twenties to be active with my kids. I was able to pick up my work outs where I left off. I am (thankfully) looking acceptable in my pre-pregnancy clothes again, and have even upgraded my wardrobe a bit.
Which brings me to my last point….
Besides, no matter what thirty-something outfit I am rocking on the outside, I still feel like I’m twenty-three on the inside! Just a much more mature, wise, Ann Taylor-wearing version of twenty-three. 😉