Feeling Old

I'm turning 30 this June. Ten years ago I had this misconception that at age thirty you had your life together. You were supposed to have the husband, kids, house and your 'forever job'. You were to be debt free. You were supposed to be the fun mom to whose house all the neighborhood kids would flock. You might even throw in a completed marathon or two and a college degree. So now I ask myself, "What have I been doing the last ten years anyway?"

So here's my checklist:

Great husband and kids. CHECK.
House. CHECK (for now).
Forever Job. I HOPE NOT.
Debt free. YEAH, RIGHT.
Fun neighborhood mom. SORTA CHECK.
Completed marathon. DOES WALKING TWO HALF-MARATHONS COUNT?
College Degree. NOT EVEN CLOSE.

You combine this rather unimpressive checklist to the fact that I was mailed a free mobility assessment from The Scooter Store (!) and the fact I thought I broke my hip at work yesterday from tripping over a balance beam, and one might say that I have some work to do.

Oh, did I mention that to celebrate my thirtieth birthday my sister and I will be renting a bed and breakfast in Brown County to quilt and knit for the weekend? I'm officially eighty trapped in an almost-thirty year-old body.

My five year-old helped me feel even older yesterday. On the way home from Pre K she says to me, "Mom, Drake and I exchanged phone numbers so we could talk." WHAT?! Then she proceeds to tell me how she already lost his number and she'll simply have to wait on his call. This is said in nearly the same breath as, "I want my ears pierced."

I suppose I'd feel better if I worked on some of those checklist items, eh?