26

It's been a month since I turned 26. My mom gave birth to me just over 26 years ago. Now that I've had a baby, I feel like birthdays really may be more important for the mamas than the babies being celebrated. You did that. You put that child into the world that day, you gave life, you performed a miracle, and that should be celebrated. So one month and 26 years ago my mom worked hard to give me a birthday.

That means I'm closer to 30 than 20.

That means I was sweet 16 ten years ago.

That means I'm closer to a decade out of high school.

That means I'm the same age my mom was when she got married.

That means I'm old enough to rent a car anywhere.

That means I can't be on my parents' insurance anymore.

That means I'm the same age M was when we got married.

That means it's been just over 3 years since our wedding.

That means it's been almost a year since my baby was born.

I kind of thought that most of these would either sting or make me "feel old." It's funny that this is the first year in many that my birthday, my one-year-old day, actually felt different. 26 feels different. I feel like I'm nearing when it really does surprise you that you've gotten a little older. I feel like the fact that 30 is that much closer finally makes me a little nervous for time to keep speeding by. I finally understand why some people are grumpy about 30 (M is there in a few months...).

But it's come and gone and I know that the best is still yet to be, and that's what I'm trying to look forward to. Not the wrinkles. And the forgetfulness. And my kids growing up and leaving me.

Maybe I'm not fine ;) But really, I'm grateful to have lived another year, because plenty of people in the foreverness of it all haven't and don't get to make it to this birthday. So I've embraced another year of life.

Thanks mom.