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I turn twenty-nine today.

I used to think it was a faraway age that I would never be able to attain. Twenty-nine was really close to thirty, and thirty was old. But here I am, and I don’t feel like I’m getting old. In fact, sometimes I feel like I should still be 16 and sitting at a desk at my high school. I definitely don’t feel old enough or mature enough to be a grown-up, or a wife, or a mom for that matter.

Are we sure this isn’t some kind of mistake?

Well, I guess the need for a grown-up skin care routine shows me that’s not the case. That and the pile of bills staring at me on my desk. And the budget I’m working on for the next month. Or the fact that Addi recently told me that she really likes my vintage music. I was listening to the Spice Girls.

Many of my friends still do not have kids. They live lives of freedom, going out, doing their own thing. Their conversations with friends don’t revolve around the color of their child’s poop or how hard it is to get silly putty out of a kids hair.

But you know what? I’m just going to embrace it. I’m going to embrace the fact that the most exciting thing in my daily life right now is if my seedlings for my garden are germinating or not, embrace the reality that I recently cried over broken knitting needles.

My life isn’t filled with parties or kids free travel, but it’s filled with love and hugs and ketchup covered kisses.  I have a husband I love, a house that I like, and three little souls that make my world go round.

I have my own little piece of paradise right here, and we’re creating this heaven together piece by piece.

Twenty-nine isn’t what I thought it would be. But I think I like it just the way it is.

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