364 Days To Go

29.  That's how old I am as of today.  So, I only have about 364 days to be "in my twenties."  Then comes the big 3 0.  Part of me thinks 'meh, what's the big deal?  I'm married.  I have a baby.  I'm a stay at home mom now.  Who cares how old I am?'  There's this little voice in the back of my mind though that keeps telling me 30 is a bad thing.  Instead of not being able to have a baby because I'm getting older, the voice now says I probably won't be able to have ANOTHER baby.  And if I do, it won't be as perfect or healthy next time.  The voice tells me it's time to cast aside the converse and T's and start thinking about jeans with heels (heels... cringe.  Don't get me wrong I love fashion and think all kinds of shoes are beautiful.  I just don't see any of that as being "me.").  The voice tells me I better get this baby weight off immediately and aim not just for my pre-pregnancy size, but (better yet) my pre 20's size.  If I don't, my husband is going to leave me, and my daughter will be embarrassed by me (or think of me as just her frumpy old mom who she can't relate to at all) when she's old enough to notice.  I need to cast off the geeky glasses and start using the contacts I have hanging out for special occasions.  I need to stop playing video games and join a mommy and me class with A.  I need to get some makeup onto this eye baggage and some polish onto these nails.  

Like I don't have enough to worry about with the new baby.  She's just cutting her first tooth and getting ready to crawl.  In addition to those craptacular thoughts, I found out the gift card I sent someone is not useable in her country and exposed a regifter accidentally by posting a picture of what she got me online.  Besides all that ugliness though, I've had a great day.