I recently realized I am closer to 31 than I am to 30. For some reason, that difference feels dramatic. Maybe because now I’m “in my thirties”, as opposed to saying “Oh I just turned 30, so you know, barely a real grown up. Let’s stay up until 2 a.m.!” Funny enough, I still feel like I’m 22. Or 19. Or 16. I used to wonder how moms turned into Moms – the women with baggy pants and minivans and short hair dragging a gaggle of kids behind them. Because obviously that was NEVER going to happen to me. I am young and fun and will always be young and fun no matter how many kids I have! Exclamation point! Except that today none of my jeans fit and my kid threw yogurt on me this morning and I didn’t have time for make-up so here I am, in my minivan and yoga pants, looking like all the other Moms in the preschool drop off line. But somehow I still don’t FEEL like a Mom inside. My inner self – the one who looks out through my eye holes at the world – has a hard time believing the person in the mirror with the crow’s feet and stretchmarks is really ME.

But you know what? THAT’S OK. During every single one of my 31 years so far I’ve learned something important. Basic human skills (eating without getting food all over myself was a good one), important interpersonal skills (listen when people tell you who they are), and practical skills (like how to sew a skirt or knit a hat). There are some things I have to re-learn once a day – why oh WHY do I never take my eye makeup off before bed?! – and some I have to re-learn on a minute-by-minute basis – eating just one more cookie is not a good idea now and won’t be a good idea 8 cookies from now.

All those lessons meld together to make me who I am, and the person I am today is a much better person than I was a decade ago, and not just because I’ve crossed more things off my bucket list. Growing older surrounded by my friends and family is a joy. Every year I get to spend with my kids is the best year of my life (although it is so true that sometimes the days can be extremely long). All 30 and a half of my years so far have made me who I am today, and I wouldn’t give up a minute of it. How do celebrate your age? Do you still feel 16 inside even when your face tells you you’re not?

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Funny, I don’t feel any more ancient than I did yesterday even though I’m officially now at an age kids, teenagers and college students alike would all agree might as well be a bazillion. Hey kids, let me tell you about the time I walked to school barefoot in the snow uphill both ways! While fighting off dinosaurs! With a stick! Now get off my lawn!

My big plans for the day include Stroller Strides, Target, writing a blog post and not cooking dinner – so, basically, a regular Tuesday. But no one’s allowed to complain I didn’t make dinner, so that will be special.

I have a bad habit of starting in on the “It’s for my birthday!” excuse way too early so I don’t actually get anything special ON my birthday. Like that ring E bought me on vacation or the day-trip to the lighthouse we bought at the charity auction or the laser hair removal I bought myself (and am obscenely excited about). “It can be my 30th birthday present!” sounded SO GOOD at the time but now I won’t be getting any real presents and I’m a little sad. Because even though I’m a bazillion I still act like a spoiled 10 year old on my birthday. I guess my real gift is that E has put up with me for the last 10 years.

I was trying to find pictures of my last “big” birthday – my 21st – because it was the first one E and I celebrated as a couple. He rented a limo and took my best friend (the same best friend who was just here for Little Evan’s birthday!) and I out to dinner and to a club where we drank too much and danced and I fell down the stairs and injured myself pretty badly. It was everything a 21st birthday should be (I still can’t drink vanilla vodka)…but I have no pictures. It wasn’t the healthiest or most stable time in my life and I threw out most of the photos because I hated looking at them. I was so very hard on myself at that age. I wish I could go back and give that poor sad, hungry girl a hug and say “It’s ok! You’re beautiful! You’re allowed to be happy!” But that’s the problem with hindsight – I know my 21 year old self wouldn’t have listened. I needed practically every day of my 20’s to learn to give myself a break.

But I did learn and thank GOD because perfection in motherhood is impossible and the me that could stare at the pores on my nose for an hour could NOT handle kids. And I couldn’t even imagine my life now without them. I hate this kind of statement enormous amounts coming out of almost anyone else’s mouth but truly, I am so so blessed.

I was going to make a list of stuff I’ve done in the last 30 years and stuff I want to do in the next 30, but all I really want to do is hang out with the two little humans I grew inside my body and watch them grow up. Any maybe have some wine.

Happy birthday to me!