On Turning 30

I remember sitting in class in the autumn when I was 7 years old. My 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Patton, was talking about golden birthdays.

"Mine will be next year!" chirped my friend Amy.

"Mine happens when I turn 12!" said my friend Gedare.

We went around the room and everyone said when their golden birthday would be - the 10th, the 21st, the 9th. I felt badly for the people whose golden birthdays had already passed - MaryAnn who had hers when she was only 2 years old; JD who celebrated his when he was 4.

Then it was my turn.

"Mine will be when I'm 30," I said, realizing for the first time what a long wait I would have.

"Whoa," said Amy. "That is like FOREVER from now! And you will be so OLD then!"

Forever has gone by really fast. Today, August 30, is my golden birthday.

Yup. That means I'm 30. The big 3-0. "Old," as my childhood friend Amy said back in 2nd grade.

30 is a big birthday. I am now inescapably in the world of adults. I'm not in my twenties anymore. I. Am. Thirty.

I always had great plans for my golden birthday. Maybe a big surprise party thrown by my husband. Or else a concert splurge that we'd never spend money on otherwise (Counting Crows? Dave Matthews? Am I dating myself here? Yes. Yes, I am). Perhaps a super fancy dinner out on the town, wearing my best stiletto heels and a short black dress.

Instead, as I celebrate my 30th birthday today, I am nine months pregnant. Very, very, very pregnant.

A month or so ago, my husband asked me what I wanted to do to celebrate my 30th. Being generally exhausted, more than a little bit cranky, and knowing that these things would likely increase as I neared my due date, I answered him very honestly:

"Absolutely nothing."

"Seriously?" he asked.

I am the birthday queen. I plan my husband's birthday for months on end. I scour coupons and discounts to get the most birthday fun for my birthday dollar. It is not beneath me to contact distant relatives to send cards, or to wrap each piece of a birthday present separately for more unwrapping fun. I LOVE birthdays.

Yet the birthday queen has been dethroned this year. The birthday queen is exhausted, struggling with heartburn, and trying to sleep at night all while being kicked in the ribs by a 7 pound baby. This year, the birthday queen wants a vacation from her palace.

I have honestly never been less excited for my birthday than I am this year. To my 30th birthday, my golden birthday, I say: "Meh."

"You have to give me something to go on," said my husband, pushing for some way to celebrate.

"I really don't want to do anything," I said. "If you throw me a surprise party I will kill you. If you want to buy me a present, I'd love earrings, since those will still fit. And cake. Lots of cake. And maybe to watch a movie on the couch with you. That's it."

I'm pretty sure he still has something planned for later in the day (he's sneaky that way), but since I haven't had to clean the house and the freezer is full of cake from Shabtai Gourmet (they make gluten free Ho-Ho's!!!), my 30th birthday is looking just about perfect.

It's not the 30th birthday I planned back in Mrs. Patton's second grade classroom, but times have changed. I'm far more content with the life I have: a wonderful husband, a great church, a little baby on the way.

Now all I really want for my birthday is to have our baby. I'll be short of my due date, yes, but I'm full term, our baby is healthy, and seeing its little face would be the best birthday gift ever. I guess I AM old! Or maybe the birthday queen is just on vacation for the year, and will return in 2013 when she isn't so gosh darned pregnant.

What did you do for your birthday this year?