I turn the big 3-0 today. Which is not a bad thing. I’m one of those people who makes a big, fat deal about birthdays and have been looking forward to having an excuse to celebrate a milestone birthday in a grandiose way. Since I was 27 anyway. That was the last time I gave myself a reason to go all out. It was my Champagne Birthday (sort of). I turned 27 on September 27th of 2007. So, I rented out a downtown dessert bar and invited everyone I knew to have a bubbly-filled evening. With the intentions that my 30th birthday would result in an even more extravagant bash. If you had asked me at my 27th birthday what I would be doing for my 30th I probably would have said “Vegas!” If you had asked me last year, when I was pregnant, I would have decided I would that New York City would be an appropriate way for a mom to celebrate a fabulous age.
…because that made sense. How daft was I to think that New York City would be manageable? Without a nanny, that is. I knew I would have a four month old. I knew I would be breastfeeding said four month old. Yet, I had visions of strolling through Central Park with B.B. and my husband and then going out for dinner and drinks with friends in The City. Poof! The baby had magically disappeared from the daydream and I’m sure was being lovingly cared for. Somewhere. Logical.
It took me a while to pry that daydream’s cold and lifeless fingers from my brain. Like, two weeks ago. And then I came to grips with what 30 really looks like. For me anyway. It’s a good life, really. I’m married to someone who knows the importance of loving me as I grow into each stage of life. I have a career with which I fiercely believe I can change the world. I have a baby boy that looks at me like he swallowed a love potion and is most content when he has nuzzled his body as close to mine as physically possible. I have friendships that feed my soul and I have taken the opportunity to travel around the world. Celebrating this age is going to be more about being appreciative and less about getting inebriated. Besides, my rule of thumb is: Can’t drive? Can’t nurse.
I have and will celebrate my birthday, though. My family took me out to a restaurant that does not necessarily cater towards children and brought the kids regardless. You have pasta and butter? You have a children’s menu. And what doesn’t say, “Hey we’re in our thirties now!” like a barbecue at my house with a great group of friends and lots of babies to be passed around and loved by all. The ice cream cake kept it youthful though. And, tonight my girlfriends-without-children will be taking me out for a babyless meal. Meaning I won’t be bringing Liam, not that our meal will be a dish that doesn’t consist of baby. Yuck. I’m even trying to get the Mommy Group to go out for some snacks and (a smidge of)wine, downtown, on a Saturday night! We’ll probably be home before most 20-somethings leave their house. Then we can spend hours trying to put the babies to sleep after a night home alone with Dad! Aaahh, but it will be worth it.