Moves in Curves

I don’t get bothered by birthdays. I was pretty excited to turn 30 last year.

My son, Weapon X, didn’t want to wish me a happy birthday this morning, because there are no balloons and no people around. He said, “Maybe we can get in the car and drive somewhere. To a party with people.” I guess it doesn’t count until there’s a party. I tried to explain to him that Mama doesn’t do birthday parties, but he gave me the “you crazy broad” look and ran off to play with Legos.

Project Alpha gave me some hugs, but was more concerned with whether or not he had to go to school today (and the fact that he had to clean their room solo yesterday, while Weapon X was recovering from the head wound he’d received at his brother’s hands – apparently Alpha was still annoyed by that) than bothering to wish Mama a happy birthday.

Tonight we’re going out to dinner, Husband and the twins and me, to celebrate. Husband and I have been married long enough that he knows better than to make random restaurant workers sing to me (I freakin’ hate that). I haven’t decided where to go yet. Any suggestions on a good place?

I feel like I should have some deep insight into being a woman in my 30s or some crap like that, but really, another day older is another day older and I hardly even notice them. So no metaphysical birthday crap from me. Bottle o’Riesling?

My kids turn 5 today. It’s a strange thought. It doesn’t seem like they should be this old. They had pancakes for breakfast, I made a train-shaped cake and put their names on it in red frosting (the cake didn’t cook properly in the middle, stupid shaped pan), and they seem happy. It finally stopped raining so I want to take them somewhere, but unfortunately it’s Memorial Day so most places are closed.

C says he doesn’t want to be five, because it’s not his favorite number. He wants to be four. D is cool with being five.

I turn thirty this year. In about, oh, T-minus 5 weeks. My friend and belly dance partner, K, is turning 30 two weeks before me. We’ve been talking about our impending 30s quite a bit and what it must mean (primarily, that we probably shouldn’t run around dressing in tight and skin-baring clothing when we go to the club like we were still 21, and also that we probably shouldn’t go to the club at all, because it invariably makes us annoyed at the little 19 year olds and start saying things like “teenage skanks” and “these kids today” and then we feel even more old). Some of the things we talk about quite a bit are eye cream, the need for; and personal style, the evolving of.

In my quest to both become a grown-up and not look old, I have bought a good eye cream (not good like K buys, because she’s got a rich husband and can buy $200 eye cream), made by Noah’s Naturals, which is one of my favorite companies, because I don’t like parabens and other bad chemicals on my skin. Unless they come from Sephora. I’ve also been considering my own personal style. I’ve always been very eclectic, throwing hippy and Hawaiian and surf together, and apparently that is not as ok when one is 30 as when one is 20. So I plan to go through my wardrobe and get rid of things I no longer wear, am too old to wear, or don’t fit in with my own personal style, and evaluate what I want to look like as a woman in her 30s. This is a work in progress right now. I will update as this particular project progresses.