Gettin' Old

So here it is again. My birthday.

I long for the days when I was excited about my birthday, when the month leading up to it was filled with secrecy and anticipation. I imagine that I probably acted just like Sydney does about her birthday. She gets so excited thinking about it that we've had to set a limit on how much we'll talk about it: no talking about birthdays until the month before.

Even though I'm not as excited about them as I used to be, I'm not all that sad about them, either. I don't particularly dread them (I wonder if I'll feel the same way as I get closer to the big 4-0?), but see them more as just another way to mark time. Some are remembered for the huge life events I experienced around the same time, like when my OB told me on my 30th birthday to go on bedrest for a few weeks and hope that my pregnancy with Liam wouldn't end in a miscarriage. That was a fun one. And some birthdays are unmemorable. Did we go out to eat to celebrate my 28th birthday? What gifts did I get for my 31st? I honestly don't remember.

I think this birthday will be remembered for the slight feelings of "getting old" I've been experiencing. For instance:

* two consecutive days of yard work left me wishing we had some Bengay in the house. Instead, I had to settle for soaking in a hot bath and a few days of groaning every time I moved.

* the birthday presents I requested would probably make others laugh: new clothes (since I always buy for the kids and not myself), new measuring spoons (since I managed to grind up our previous ones in the garbage disposal) and some spice racks to help me organize the kitchen cabinets a bit better. Ryan was amazed at how excited I was about organizing the spices.

* I've found myself having to use both acne and wrinkle creams at the same time. Nature is so cruel to make you deal with both.

* And just this morning, I read this article which explains why, despite eating healthy foods for the past few months, I'm still struggling to fit into a pair of jeans I bought during one of my "skinny eras."

Even though it may sound like I'm whining about getting old, I'm really not. I know that achy muscles and wrinkles are just a part of life and I will gladly accept them in exchange for the gift of being able to watch my kids grow up. To me, that's the best birthday gift of all.