Tuesday, November 16, 2010
This is the first year since I can remember that owning up to my new age is no problem for me. I was always surprised at each birthday about my new number. "I can't believe I'm 12!" "I can't believe I'm 18!" "I can't believe I'm 30." This year? 33. I can totally believe it.
Funny how things that come up once a year end being good spots for comparisons. This time last year...this time 5 years ago...remember when.... I've noticed that I often compare myself now to younger versions of myself during Beach Weeks (this time last year I was so jealous of these moms with minivans). And I also tend to do that on my birthdays. This time last year I still felt 12. I felt 12 for around 20 years. And I'm both happy and sad to say that I don't feel 12 anymore.
I feel 33. I feel more responsible. I understand things better that used to leave me baffled. I feel like I can take on more. I feel like I can handle what's ahead. But, I also don't feel so carefree. Or impulsive. Or giddy. I have a little bit darker perspective on life. I sort of feel like a grown-up. ;) And even though this 33 me isn't so footloose and fancy free, I'm not sure I'd go back. In fact, sometimes I think I'm better than ever.
Turns out, aging is not so bad after all.
And birthdays are downright fantastic when there are little boys to get all excited about them. I made vanilla cupcakes yesterday and when Andrew got home from school we made and applied cherry frosting. Delicious!
Thanks for all your birthday wishes yesterday! I must say, I love soaking in birthday attention. Almost as much as I did at 12.
Posted by Dave at 8:22 AM