One sister made sure to get me a mug pointing out my age, because no 30th is complete without a little bit of flaunting that she is still in her 20's. The other got me balloons, perhaps attempting to preserve my youth. My mother made my usual birthday treat, sauteed mushrooms, as those are banned from my house, due to the fact that the smell induces retching from the ol' hubs. And, for my 4th night of birthday celebrating, my in-laws provided a lovely dinner of meatloaf. So, despite my insane schedule, I managed to celebrate my birthday for nearly the entire month of August. Now that takes skill.
What a great, fantastic, dream of 30 years. Seriously, what would I ever change? I dreaded this number, but I have already grown to love it. Finally, my age matches my shoe size...er, I mean maturity. I always think of my mother as being in her 30's, doesn't seem to be a bad decade to be eternally stuck.