I woke up last week one year closer to 30. It's something I never really gave much thought to (turning 30) until I was that much closer to it. And I really shouldn't be this concerned since my husband passed 30 a while ago.
But for whatever reason, this felt bigger than even being pregnant. I'm 24 weeks pregnant wth my first baby and (I hope she doesn't take this the wrong way or anything) but only have one year left in my twenties seems to hit me harder. (worst mom ever?)
Maybe it's because when you're young and you day dream about all the wild adventures you'll go on and the magical trips you'll take, they all seem to happen in your twenties. Or maybe I watched waaaaay too many Lifetime movies (and still do, embarrassingly).
Whatever the reason is, there I was, cuddled up in bed with the pups, rubbing my belly, talking to my husband about how surreal this next chapter feels. I mean, we're HAVING A BABY. And I'M ALMOST 30. And, and, and...
... And that's all. A moment of reality washed away by the kicking I felt in my belly. (Which also feels like a small alien trying to fight her way out)
So to all of you who are that much closer to 30, know that you are not alone and that you're rockin' it, babe. Whatever you made of your twenties, you still have another year to kill it. (Or couch potato it, no judgement)