So I'm 30.

I don't feel any different. 

I don't think I look any different. 

But I was reminded again how much I'm loved. 

Donnie keeps asking me how I feel, like I am supposed to freak out about my new age. 

The only thing that seems weird is that my 20's are gone. But only because people talk so much about "your 20's." But now I'm in "my 30's." 

I remember growing up and knowing my mom had me when she was 31. I thought that was old. (Mainly because it was old compared to my friends' parents. My parents had at least 10 years on a lot of them.) But here I am, a year away from 31. If I'm going to have another child, it will have to be in the next year, otherwise I will be older than my mom when she was old. (what?)

When people have asked how I feel about turning the corner to 30, I've had the same response. I'm either in denial about it or I'm totally accepting of it. Because its really been no big deal. (I think its the latter of the two). I have a thoughtful husband and two beautiful, happy, and healthy boys. We have a home and blessed life. I have a support system of friends and family that are more than wonderful.  Why would I dread turning 30, and continuing in this life I have? 

So, how did I spend my first day in my 30's?

Slept in. 

Was served breakfast and sat down and ate with my family. 

Donnie told me he took the day off and was sending me to get a massage. 

After the massage, I took advantage of the steam shower and all the yummy products. 

As I was leaving the spa, Stacey showed up to take me to lunch. 

PF Chang's. Yum. 

Then a manicure. 

Topped off with a Pumpkin Spice Latte.

And then a little reading (about vampires and werewolves. Don't ask.) 

And then a sort of accidental nap. 

And then, as I was waiting for friends to show up for Survivor, it turned out to be Stacey here to babysit so Donnie and I could go have dinner. 

Sushi and martinis. Yum. Yum.

And then back home to watch Survivor on TiVo while eating cheesecake. 

Oh yeah. And this. 

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Kiefer wanted to wear my necklace, so we shared it. 

Reagan was still in his bed, awake at 9:00. After several singing outbursts, I went in and grabbed him. He came out to be the center of attention for a couple minutes, for a little more birthday snuggling, and a bite of cheesecake. He was sound asleep within minutes. 

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With the dozen phone calls and multiple texts and emails (and even a real card in the mail!), at the end of the day, I still think about that one call that doesn't come anymore. The one call that always reminded me of how old he must be if his baby was having another birthday. The one call whose absence brings me to tears every year, from my 20th to my 30th.