I turn 35 tomorrow. I’m not sure how I feel about it.
I don’t feel 34 and when people ask how old I am I generally say 32 because I forget that I keep aging.
Maybe it’s a bad sign that I can’t remember how old I am. Or maybe I am in denial.
A lot of my friends are in their forties and they call me a baby when ever my age comes up.
That does keep me feeling young I suppose.
In truth I think I am more on the excited side to enter into my mid to late thirties. So far my thirties have been great and I think that will continue.
So why is turning 35 still a stigma?
Why does everyone keep telling me that I am now closing in on forty like it’s a bad thing?
If forty is the new thirty then sign me up!
I feel like the older I get the better I get.
Here are some things I have learned in my 34 years and 364 days:
If you act calm when someone is really mad at you it is way more effective than screaming back at them.
I understand that you really can’t judge a book by it’s cover. I have met some truly wonderful people that are the complete opposite of the people I usually associate with.
I have learned that being a mom is like being the co-boss and one of two employees of a company. You need to know everything that goes on at all times in order to keep the ship afloat. You are the crisis manager, PR person, payroll, shipping and receiving and the company car service. So many jobs and you will never see a dime for all the work that you do but that’s okay because when your child looks at you with a huge smile and says I love you that’s payment enough.
I really don’t care what people think. We all judge. I know I judge people and that people judge me. It’s human nature to pick apart other people. Of course with the judgment comes the gossip. At 35 I have stopped caring what people say and why they are saying it. I’m too old for that garbage.
Track pants are the most amazing thing on earth but are never appropriate to wear outside of the house. Yoga pants on the other hand are meant to wear any where and every where. I kid of course there is a time and a place for yoga pants. I have never really cared about my looks or how the outside world saw me. I would go out with ratty hair and paint splattered clothes without a second thought. It wasn’t until I got in to real estate and started seeing clients outside of work and realised that I look like a slob. Now I try to at least look some what pulled together even if I am wearing yoga pants at the Home Depot. I still don’t care what people think but I don’t always want to look like a hobo.
I am turning into my father. My dad is a pretty quiet guy that looks like George from Seinfeld and has a wicked case of OCD when it comes to house keeping. I am not quiet nor do I look like a bald middle aged man but I do like things clean. I always laughed at my dad for taking eight hours to wash a car but now I am the same way. I always have Lysol wipes on hand in case I notice a smudge or smear on any surface. Chris will laugh and shake his head as I compulsively wipe down the cupboards. I might over do it at times, I’ll admit that but I am at a stage in my life where vacuuming makes me feel happy.
Exercising can really suck but it is totally worth it. I was the doing the 30×30 program but stopped after Callum got an ear infection that lasted for almost a month and I was too tired to move because he was getting up crying all night. I also got strep throat so that put a damper on movement too. I have of course gained weight. I am hovering near the 150 mark now and it doesn’t feel good. Sometimes I forget just how great I feel after going for a walk or doing a few push ups. I am getting back on track now and will hit 35 with a healthy and fit mentality.
Manners are not an option. I’m not sure when it became okay to be late on a regular basis or to not say thank you anymore. It is society wide and it is awful! Holding the door for an elderly woman won’t make you a hero but it will make you a decent member of society. Manners need to come back in style now!
I’m trying to remember what else I have learned but I can’t. I am old and forgetful now.