Grown Up

The title of this post might make you think I’m about to lament how fast my baby is growing, and how I can’t keep up, etc. etc.  And while those things may be somewhat true….I’m going to be a bit more self-centered for a minute.

I’m talking about myself.  Friday is my birthday.  I’m turning 32.

32 is one of those numbers that doesn’t really have any official significance, yet somehow it sounds sooooo grown up to me.  I’m turning 32.  Sure, it’s still fairly young in the grand scheme of things.  And sure, I still have so much of my life ahead of me.  And no, I’m not “old” for a new mom by current standards.

But oh my GOD I’m turning 32.

I don’t tend to put a lot of stock in the number of my age.  But now that I’m a mom, and I’ve got a few grey hairs, and a lot more lines around my eyes, it means a little more to me.  There is a child who calls me Mama.  There is a man who calls me his wife, and we’re no longer newlyweds.  I have a career, and have been at the same job for over six years.  I’m not straight out of school, I’m not just starting out in the real world.  I actually live here, and I own property, and I have responsibilities.  LOTS of responsibilities.

I’m turning 32.  It just has such a strange ring to it.  I know when my husband turned 32 he acted like it was a big deal, and I thought he was being melodramatic and having some kind of early mid-life crisis.  But now I can kind of see what he meant.  For some reason this feels like the age at which you simply can’t deny that you’re a grown-up.  We can cover up those dark circles, squeeze our hips into boot cut jeans, dye our hair, do what we have to to look younger.  But we’re still grown ups, and there’s no denying it.

I’m not concerned or sad about this.  It’s just a very strange feeling.  At some point I grew up, and I feel like I didn’t even notice.

That said, I still make up silly songs about my cats and my baby, and I still talk in funny voices and make strange sound effects for my own amusement.  I still get the giggles when people say inappropriate things.  I still get giddy when we see animals while we’re out and about, and I still do a little jig and wave my arms somewhat manically when I’m really excited (something my son has apparently inherited from me).  I’m not OLD, people.  I’m just grown up.  I don’t have any plans to become the former any time soon.

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