You know what that means…tomorrow is my birthday! By typical “woman standards” this will be the last birthday I acknowledge 🙂
I really have no issues with turning 29 or 30 for that matter. I have noticed that it is mostly childless friends who seem to take these birthdays the hardest. I have nothing against the childless, single or both by any means. Whether by choice or not I hold no ill feelings.
What I mean is that there is something about having a child that has made me more aware of myself as a person and as a human being. A few years ago I would have been mortified by having stretch marks, extra skin and a little “fluff” around my middle.
I joke about this being my last birthday ever but I could really care less about how old or young I am. I have gotten back to the gym and am working on the physical things that bother me a little. I honestly only want to lose some weight so that my clothes fit more nicely and I am healthy. I know that no amount of crunches will fix skin that is the equivalent of old undies with shot elastic and no magic cream will get rid of my stretch marks that are akin to having been mauled by a tiger.
For me, the birth of my son changed who I was. Both good and bad, it made me different. For a few years I was too wrapped up in what I was doing in life that it never seemed like the time was right.
Baby Ram-a-razzi couldn’t have picked a worst time (in theory) to come into existence! I had one semester and a Summer left of college. Talk about bad timing! I finished college two weeks before my due date. I just knew I would go into labor in class and be mortified. He did plan that part well. He ended up coming 8 days late and only after being forced out.
After the crazy ordeal that was the birth of Baby Ram-a-razzi left me feeling like a horribly bloated (thanks 8 bags of IV fluid) anemic, horribly ill Wonderwoman. From that day on I had a backbone. It was weird. They must have put that in when the took the baby out. I quit letting people walk all over me and I started standing up for others as well. It’s quite liberating!
Anyone who thinks 29 is old or the end of having birthdays can kiss the bottom of my flip-flop!