Ruminations on turning 36
eh.
the nose really doesn’t ever stop growing, does it?
I feel like I’m 26…and not in a “I feel so young!” type of way…in a “what? I’m 36???? But I’m still a kid!!” kind of way.
a confession: this adulting thing? I’m kind of bad at it (see above bullet). And not in the ways I thought I’d be bad at it. In relatively superficial ways. Like, I have a house, right? I have NO IDEA how people keep their houses up. We will have lived here for two years as of Sunday and most rooms are pretty much the same that they were six months after we moved in; that is, fairly empty and transitioning. The projects I say I’m going to take on (painting our peeling front porch; painting the rooms we didn’t paint upon moving in; putting art/photographs on the walls; getting furniture; changing out the previous owner’s wicker mirrors in the bathrooms) take a backseat. I now understand how people’s houses very quickly look unkempt…if you don’t get on that shit right away, it’s really really hard to catch up. Yeah, I know I have a two and a half year old (that alone is, like, WHOA) and that makes my time not my own, but other people with small children seem to perfect their houses and buy seasonal flowers to keep outside their front door. I bought an urn of flowers; they died about two weeks in. And they’re still out there.
hearing Georgia say, “I wanna help celebrate, mama!” re: my birthday is the sweetest ever.
except have I mentioned my birthday is on Yom Kippur? Let me tell ya, that’s always never fun.
I sound like a negative nelly right now. And I guess I might just be.
36 is somehow harder than 35.
BUT…
I have an amazing husband who wants to celebrate me all weekend, a beautiful and hilarious daughter who wants to draw a picture of a cardinal (her request) in my honor and friends and family who love me. So. fasting and atoning and aging aside…it’s a pretty good birthday.
here’s to hope and a great year ahead.