You Know You Have Made It When They Turn Your 30th Birthday In To A National Holiday

OK, so here’s the deal. I am turning 30. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will wake up and begin my 4th decade of life.

I am not going to lie and say I am handling this well. No. I have asked my husband for a boob job and Botox several times. I spent an hour and a half searching for gray hairs. I broke down in tears when a normally very thoughtful friend was telling me about a date he had and mentioned she wasn’t going to turn 30 for SO long and how girls “in their 20’s are so hot.”

Yeah, when you are vain and changing decades, it’s not fun. Constantly worrying about what is sagging and what is no longer going to be considered attractive. And when you are vain and love being the center of attention on said birthday, turning THIRTY and sharing the day with a turkey is just awful.

I am in Mahotma Baubie and Zadie’s Land with my wonderful Mommy and Daddy. My amazing husband. Awesome brother. And of course, my perfect children.

But where is the big party? Where are all of my friends? Where are the cakes and presents and over the hill balloons? And seriously, how does anyone expect me to turn 30 without a keg?

Instead of a whole shebang about my glory there is a whole shebang about what we are grateful for. I just do not see how this is fair. Instead of thinking about me everyone will be thinking about themselves! Oh the horror.

I am turning THIRTY yes. But just because I am 30 doesn’t mean I know how to share.

So I guess that means I have to think about me. I will have to have to sing a song to myself about my glory. Think about what I am grateful for me for.

Well I am turning 30. I am grateful I am not turning 40.

No no. That’s not nice.

I am grateful I will never know what it is like to be 9 months pregnant and having to hire the announcer from the Price is Right to ask the baby to “Come on down!”

Oh and I am grateful for my husband. Who is perfect for me and with me.

And you know, I am really grateful I don’t have any unsightly moles. Which reminds me I am happy I don’t have any cancerous moles, which reminds me I am glad I don’t have cancer, which reminds me I am thankful for my health.

I am grateful for my teeth and gums. And the fact that my husband has a rockin job where we can get sweet sweet dental insurance (and helps pay for the special “I’m turning 30 so I get to buy myself the sassy new black nail polish from Chanel” presents).

And of course I am grateful for the awesomeness that my womb produced. And in particular, I am grateful that my daughter is finally potty trained and that my sons sleeps through the night.

I am grateful that we have a beautiful home with a kick ass kitchen. And I am grateful that in it I seemed to found an actual talent that I possess- I can cook. Who knew?

I am grateful that I am turning 30 and am sad that I am not with my friends. Because that means I actually have wonderful, amazing friends who always make me smile (even when they are talking about 20 year fresh meat being hotter than 30 year old rib roast).

Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Look at me! I am 30! OF COURSE I should feel old. I have done more in 30 years then some people do in their whole lives! I am HAPPY and HEALTHY. I have friends! I am accomplished. I have been deemed smart enough to be hired by a Fortune 50 company and was smart enough to know that being a mommy is way more fun. And I have stuff! I have an awesome husband! I can spend long periods of time with my family and not want to jump off a cliff!

DAMN IT! Now I am all happy and feeling grateful. Darn turkeys and Pilgrims and Native Americans stealing my thunder. I wanted to wallow in my oldness for a while. You know how I love the self pity. Oh well. There is still the surprise birthday party that I am having in a couple of weeks. I will bitch and moan in between keg stands.