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I have about ten different posts waiting to be written. I am not even exaggerating here....there's the one about all of the various funny faces Aliza makes, with pictures to match that are guaranteed to make you smile and feel all warm and fuzzy inside even if you don't know me personally. Then there is the post about all of Aliza's words and how amazing it is to watch her learn new things. Then there is the post about our trip to the zoo which was just so ridiculously fun, again, with pictures to match. Then there is the post about how we are starting to transition Aliza into daycare and OH MY GOD I'm a little nervous about it and my teacher side and my mommy side are at war. Then there is the post about how school is starting and somehow I've managed to do nothing to prepare, and I do mean nothing. Then there is the post about my law class and all the things I've learned like how I could have TOTALLY sued a prior parent for libel and how teachers really are pretend parents, even the courts call us that-legally and all! Then there's the post about the zip line adventure we went on, that's right I went zip lining with my dad, sister and brother and it was fun and scary and exhilerating and amusing. Then there's the post---well, I think you are getting the point so I'll move on.


This post isn't about any of that. This post is about me. Actually, this post is about my birthday, which is today. That's right, today I turned thirty three.


I'm not one to set much store by age. I mean, what does it even mean anymore when someone says "you don't look ____ (fill in an age here). OK, I'll admit, some ages have bothered me a bit. Thirty-one for example. For some reason, I was fine with thirty, but when thirty-one hit, it hit hard. Thirty-three doesn't much bother me.

Except.

Except it seems kinda, I don't know, mature.

Do you ever have those moments? Those moments where you look around and think, "How did I get here?"


The other day I was walking with Aliza. Thinking about the amazing summer we have had together. How fun it is to watch her, talk to her,, play with her, be with her. How cool it is that she is so much in my world now and I can't imagine living without her. How much I love that I can picture her so clearly in my mind when I am away from her. What a lucky parent I am to have this amazing little miracle in my life. And I started thinking about our house, and my husband, and my daughter and my job.

And I realized- this is IT.

This is MY life. I've arrived. I'm at adulthood. I'm a homeowner with a mortgage and it doesn't matter that I have no idea how to make my flowers grow in my yard without killing them, or what to do about the peeling paint on our deck, or how to sand and refinish all of our old, old doors. It's OUR home now, so we have to figure that out. Just like our parents did. And I'm a parent. And it doesn't matter that sometimes I get so scared for Aliza that I want to wrap her in my arms and hang on tight and not let the world in to hurt her. It doesn't matter that there is no manual, no right way, to raise a kid. She's OUR daughter, so we have to figure it out as we go. Just like our parents did. And I'm a teacher-soon-to-be-administrator. It doesn't matter that I feel like it was just yesterday that it was my first year and I was, and still am sometimes, scared and overwhelmed and concerned that I am not doing enough. It's MY job. So I have to figure it out. Just like my parents did. This. This is MY life.

And this life? Well, it doesn't seem to get any better than this.


I'll take thirty three. With open arms and a smile on my face. With my heart full to bursting with the blessings I have in my husband, my daughter, my parents- both set, my siblings- both sets, a roof over my head, a job I love and days filled with sunshine and discovery.

I'll take thirty three. Gladly.