30 and Then Some

I was so jazzed about turning 30! I planned a big night out with my closes of close friends. Our small little group celebrated well at the Melting Pot in Portland. I love going into the city and being "hip and cool" even if it is fleeting and a bit silly. I loved turning 30. Saying it made me feel.....hip and cool and totally Portland. I wanted to use my new age like my sons do. They randomly walk up to strangers and announce, "I'm four. I'm two. That is our baby brother."

30 means something. (Teehee, remember the show ThirtySomething?) It means you are now officially an adult. No one questions you. You are legit. But as you continue to age in this decade of possibility, you realize you are just getting closer to 40. And 40 is old. 40 is how old your parents were when you realized they had an age. I know people, Oprah, try to make us feel good about aging, telling us that 60 is the new 50 and 50 the new 40, but it really is what it is.

I'm turning 32 this September. It sounds scary now because it has all gone so fast. It took no time to get to this moment. This means I'm going to be 60 sooner than later. Panic!

I took one of those silly quizzes on FB. It said my real age was 29. I was sort of pleased with my results. I certainly don't want to be acting 21 or 22. That would be ridiculous. My sister kept taking those age quizzes also and they kept telling her she was 40, almost a decade older than she is. That might be worse than being told you are 21.

The experts also tell us that age is how you feel. Kind of, but age is also what is on your driver's license, birth certificate, and social security records.

Now that I vomited my age thoughts out, I don't really feel any better.

I'm just glad my parents were older when they had me. This makes me feel young still. I can always remind myself that my mom was still five years shy of having me when she was 32....so there!