My 29th Year.

The thought of another birthday was sort of annoying. I remember being a pre-teen and complaining to my mother saying, "I do not want to become an adult. Do I really have to grow up?" I feel the same at 29 that I did at 12.

29 is even more frustrating than say 24 or 26. I feel like time went and ran out on me. Can you still conquer the world at 29? Wasn't I supposed to be a hot, steamy pile of success prior to age 27?

Then, out of nowhere, this birthday decided to make me think. The thoughts that came to mind were important.

My godparents, Joe & Trisha Penabad, never forget my birthday. With everything in their own lives, they send me a card every year. They have such tremendous love and care. I appreciate it so much.

Carrie Seigel always sends me a card. It made me think about how she's so good with dates. She remembers every birthday and anniversary. At nearly thirty, I want to be better at that stuff.

My sister Danielle gave me a gift certificate to a spa. I was so moved that I cried. I've been trying to take better care of my body and a massage with a eucalyptus rub will certainly do the trick. I don't usually say this, but I totally deserve it.

I got a card & gift from Andrew Wollman. It made me think about how he used to be a good friend, but now he's family to Jakob, Cooper and I. He's not, "like a brother to me." He's my brother.

This was followed by loving phone calls from Alex Bakalarz who offered up his traditional Colombian blessing ("Hope you live 120 years!"), Karen Stein who plans to take me to see Nightmare Before Christmas in 3-D (Yay!) & Mark Fortin who has a knack for making me feel goofy, playful and wise all at the same time. My phone rang all day.



Lizzy Cooperman came over and we had a delicious lunch. You don't know if the friends you have when you turn 20 are the friends you'll know when you turn 30. I am a lucky gal.

My mother-in-law called. So many people kvetch about their in-laws. I thank my lucky stars that I have her in my corner. She's good people.

My mother found THE gift for me. It's a leopard print sewing box with faux fur trim. It's TO DIE FOR! My father made an audiotape for Cooper of him singing. Joe Charbonneau croons the classics! Cooper loves it. He tries to sing along.



As Cooper and Marvelous Marvin Monkey sang, 'Happy Birthday to Mommy,' I fully recognized that this is not merely the end of my twenties. I'm on the precipice of something huge. Something's telling me that 30 is not the curse I have imagined it to be. Something's telling me that 30 is going to be the start of something big.



Tonight, I'm spending the evening in. When Jakob gets home, he's going to put Cooper to bed. I get to take a long, luxuriated bath until my hands get all pruney. Then, I'm going to eat a gargantuan piece of cake and order a movie On Demand. This may be the best birthday yet.