Some Spunk

Today I'm 35. I was talking to my sis today who is ten years younger than me and although I joke with her that I want to live vicariously through her and her impulsive/never-say-never/adventurous/social/outrageous/out-going/young and beautiful life, I think I really like where I am. The whole married with children/always say maybe/anti-bacterial carrying/Skip-Bo playing/church going/Wiggle groupie/garage sale shopping/in bed by 10 p.m. bit ain't bad. It ain't bad at all.

When I was really little, I do remember looking at my parents and thinking that it would take forever to get that old. Now that I'm actually here, I'm realizing how young thirty-five is. It's a lot younger than I thought it would be. I actually still have some energy left. Some spunk. And I think I know myself better now than I ever have. I know what I like and what I don't. I'm finally comfortable in my own skin. Of course, I will continue to pluck those lone gray hairs, and notice those extra pounds within seconds. I'm pretty sure I will always think my ears are too big. But I know me now. I know that I prefer flip flops to high heels. That I will always drive no more than five miles over the speed limit. That I will always choose sitting by a roaring fire in the lodge over skiing down the slopes (sorry, honey). That I'm not a runner, but I am a swimmer. That I actually love being a stay-at-home-mom. That I love to read and write, but I will never teach English. That I will always avoid parallel parking. That marrying the love of my life and having babies was a good idea. That I want to go to Australia--now. That I don't have an ounce of patience (for years I really thought I did). That I have a short temper, but am good with saying, "I'm sorry," until you truly know I am. That I am quick to smile and hug your neck as soon as I see you too. I know these things now. When you're younger, you're still kind of finding your way through the dark while your eyes are adjusting. You're trying to fit your big foot in that little Cinderella shoe. Is this making any sense (I'm up waaay past my bedtime)?

I look around at the life I've collected, my hubby (when he's here), my beautiful, challenging girls, and think how blessed I am. Another year. Thank God for another year, right? I like being 35. I like being that old and though I may not want to live to be 117 (that seems to be the magic age my dad wants to live to be), I can't wait to see what's next.