It was dinnertime before it dawned on me that today was the final day of my 20s. I worked all day with Devon, hung with the kids, did several loads of laundry, prepped dinner as usual and was just sitting down to feed Eloise and Spencer when I received a text from a friend asking what I was doing to celebrate the final eve of my 20s. Well, absolutely nothing. So I poured a big glass of wine, cheersed Eloise and continued on with the evening.
Ah, 30. The past 10 years have been pretty flippin amazing and it's because of this that I am feeling okay about turning 30. Mostly. I do resent that age is responsible for the appearance of wrinkles, finding the odd *ahem* white hair and having to wear glasses to see distance, but these things were bound to happen. I am not pleased that my hangovers last doubly as long and that it is no longer appropriate to wear crop tops, yet I promise to embrace the changes that 30 brings anyway. Even though I'm still a bit miffed about the crop tops.
The thing that gets me about 30 is that it just sounds so grown up. I realize that I have been married for five years, have two children, own a business, blah blah blah, but there is something about being in your 20s that allows you to get away without being a full adult adult. Right? Or maybe I have just been telling myself that. 20 is so long ago now that when I go out with my friends we have become the 'older women' to a group of newly legal 19 year olds. Who were born in 1996, for the record.
One of my brother's hip friends (I'm not allowed to call them 'hipsters', it's not cool) told me that 30 is the new 24. Ya, I'm pretty sure Jay Z said 30 is the new 20, but I'll take it as a compliment anyway.