On Turning 30

Yesterday was my 30th birthday. For months I've been hearing tales from friends who, upon reaching this 'dreaded' age, went a little nuts or became depressed. In sympathy, they would tell me it would pass but it sucked.

I'm still waiting for the insanity to kick in.

I don't feel any different than I have on any other birthday (except for maybe my 21st when I was so hungover I couldn't remove my forehead from the cool tile of my bathroom floor).

Maybe it's naive for me to believe that it's not such a big deal, but that's where I sit right now.
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While the whole turning 30 thing didn't bother me, certain other lack of things did. A lack of things which I've vented to friends about but am refraining from mentioning here in an effort to spare myself the head ache and you the eye-rolling.

A very dear friend who occasionally comments here (Hi ~M~!) surprised me last night with cake and balloons and the sweetest gift and a very dirty card (really! Your mother would be shocked!) which meant the world to me. I am very fortunate to have such great people in my life.
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In other news.......

I need to go buy some maternity clothes. I am frightened. You may remember the last time I went shopping and how well that turned out.
Now I will be attempting to shop with a belly. But unless I want to spend the rest of this pregnancy naked or in the one overly floral maternity night shirt that survived my pregnancy with Bre, a-shopping I must go.
Mannequins beware.