The entire year I was 32, I was adamant I was 33 and told people the whole year that I was 33. A couple days before my birthday, Curt and I got into a heated "discussion" over my age. He had to get out a calculator and subtract 1974 from the current year to prove that I was indeed 32-turning-33, not 33-turning-34. Being 33 was easy given I already had an entire year of practice! When I turned 34 last year, it was hard to stop thinking I was 33. Even though I was the brunt of a well-told story, old habits die hard, and I was taken back by a conversation I had last week with my friend Kelly.
Kelly: "Gosh, you're going to be 35 next week. We're that much closer to 40."
Me: "I'm not going to be 35, I'm going to be thirty-fourrrrrr... Oh. Wow. You're right."
I've been so busy being 33 for the past three years, that somehow I'm mid 30's and didn't even know it.
Thank goodness for Facebook to keep me in touch with friends from all walks of life and thanks to all of you who stopped by my wall and left me birthday greetings. Every time I passed the computer, the little red light circle in the corner of my mail server was lit up with new messages. I felt so loved!
Being 35 isn't bad. I woke up at 7 a.m., my designated time to force myself out of bed on a school morning, to a house full of wide-awake kids, wrapped presents on the counter and a bundle of hand-made cards and crafted treasures. It was a bit overwhelming for me to have a party before I had my coffee, but it was a great way to start the day. Took Poogie to the gym anticipating a yoga class, but decided to talk to an old friend on the phone instead. I missed the first half of the class and opted for a long, quiet workout that I thoroughly enjoyed. I had so much fun at the gym that I almost forgot to pick Alli up from the bus stop, but remembered in the nick of time, thank God. Alli and Paige "took me out to lunch" since it's anything-I-want-day, but somehow I got stuck footing the bill. We relaxed this afternoon and took a nap, not because I was tired, but because I could. My Mom and Terry came over for dinner. She made raspberry trifle, not truffle (apparently there's a difference) and we did the whole nine yards of candles and singing Happy Birthday. Grant preceded the candle blowing with a solo rendition of Happy Birthday, singing and playing his guitar. I took a video and will post it later. Curt put the kids to bed for me so I could write this post and we are going on a date sans-kids tomorrow night (thanks Britta for watching the kids).
If day one of being 35 is any indication of the year, it's going to be a good one. Just don't ask me how old I am. Most likely I'll say, "Thirty-three."