Beyond 35- age is just a number and not the one in my head

b-day pic Buca di Beppo

Yesterday I turned 35.  This is kind of strange for me, I think I remember my mom being 35.  And since I always saw my mom as old this must mean…

When I was little every birthday my grandma would ask me if I felt older and I would giggle.  Somehow, some way, I did.  But not.  I could swear I was taller, walked stronger, thought wiser.  Just like that, I’d wake up the morning of April 8th and be more grown up.  At the same time I didn’t feel that different and that was somewhat disappointing.

Somewhere around 18, that stopped.  I’m not sure how or why but even though I hope I have matured significantly since I was 18, I don’t really feel all that different.  Certainly not taller, stronger, and while I hope I’m wiser there’s quite a bit of evidence to the contrary.  I have my suspicions that my eldest is more grown up than I am.  She is very often more responsible.  This is ok with me, it means we’re doing our job at least ok.  Or she’s learning how not to be from me.  Either way, it’s not all bad.

Twenty-four seems most me.  Most people have an age that just seems like they are who they are and stay that way.  All too aware that I’m constantly growing or at least I hope I am, it’s not that I’m stuck at 24 or still processing the same way but in my head I’m still 24.  I hope that means I’m staying young because this now means that in my head I’m 11 years younger than actually am.  Perhaps I was just really old for my age then?  Or am I just really immature now?  Will it just get worse?

This year I wasn’t sure I needed a cake, we had celebrated the weekend before and cake never ended up factoring in so when the actual day came around yesterday it just seemed like work and I had kind of moved on.  However, that was considered unacceptable to some members of the family and I was talked into letting them make me a cake.

Me: “You know, I really don’t need a cake for my birthday. I don’t really care if I have one or not.”

Lollie (10): *mouth and eyes open shocked expression*

Me: “I would love a cake, cake is awesome.”

Apparently, not wanting cake is the most shocking thing my 10 year old has heard.  Practically criminal.

Whether it’s for me or for them, we had birthday cake for my birthday. Lollie and The Piano Man made it.  (They made this one and it was freaking amazing.  My pictures don’t do it justice.) I think my daughter may be right, I’m worth cake.  It seems kids are helping me stay young, skipping cake for my birthday would be a rather grown up thing to do.  I was more than happy to eat it.

chocolate hazelnut mousse layer cake

I’m a huge fan of birthdays.  Cake, singing, presents, special food, extra hugs, little kids randomly wrapping up old toys, books, half eaten granola bars, and pencil stubs in scraps of fabric all day long to present to the special someone with “happy bwifday, a pwesent for you, open it!” What’s not to like?  And kids make it even more fun and extra special.  We’re a loving and expressive family no matter what the day but everyone seems to step it up more for birthdays and special holidays:

“I went to the bathroom mommy, now you need a birthday hug!”

“Thanks for having a birthday so we could eat cake, you need a cake covered birthday kiss!”

“For you!  The 73rd birthday drawing I made for you today, now you need some birthday snuggles!”

Yep, it’s pretty awesome.

 

 

 

Do you have an age that seems most you?

 

 

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