thirty.

You're almost here.

I like you.

I'm excited to meet you.

I'm so ready to be you.

I grew my hair out for you.

I wanted to be all Cher (70's, NOT 80's) or Stevie or something for when you got here. What better time to settle into my (fake) inner-hippie-ness then at your arrival.

But who am I kidding, I'm not Cher or Stevie, or even Grace Slick, which is probably a good thing, I mean, I'm sure at least two of them have barely functioning olfactory systems (for one reason or another), and I like my nose, and the fact that I can smell with it.

So no, I'm not some 70's era gypsy. I'm just me.

And although its taken me a really long time to get to this point, I think I actually like me.

I like my life.

I like my husband. Well, ok, I love him. I like his beard.

I like my house (well, except for the fact that the grass requires mowing and geez, where did all these hand prints on the wall come from, doesn't someone clean up after these kids?).

I like the fact that I love my kids so much they drive me up the freaking wall. (THE SAND IS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN THE SANDBOX, YOU CANNOT WEAR IT)

I like this town. (Bon Jovi would say, I LOVE THIS TOWN, but how lame would it be to reference that? Oh, wait. I just did.)

I like my closet. Well, half of it. Not enough of it goes well my my pink and green cowboy boots.

I like my job, even though its more like jobs. Or projects? To-do's that never go away? Things that had to be done yesterday that I'll do tomorrow?

I like my family. Yes its true, I really like all of you, contrary to popular belief. I might even love a few of you. Especially those of you who have already sent cards and gifts (Just kidding, of course. You still have two days.)

I like my friends, my ladies (and guys too), who are awesome, who are some of the most amazing people I know.

I always thought I'd dread thirty, but the truth is, I can't wait. I've skimmed the questions. Now, I'm writing out the answers.

I'm not expecting anything mind-blowing, you know like getting struck by lightning at 5:02 am on Saturday morning "BAM. You're thirty! Now get out there and start acting like it."

Nope, I'm just glad to be here.

It ain't no sin to be glad you're alive.



and happy birthday to you too, Bob.