Internet, I'm going to let you in on a little secret:
I'll be thirty before the New Year.
Why would I be bringing attention to this fact? Because it could possibly explain why my brain seems to have been replaced by figgy pudding (which, I have never in my life tried, nor do I ever plan to). I literally don't even know what day it is anymore. Which is, by the way, why I am posting Mommy Monday on a TUESDAY.
People say things to me like, "Oh, thirty is the new twenty!" These people, I believe, are the same people who say, "Forty is the new thirty!" or "Fifty is the new forty!" or "You know they make hair dye to cover that, right?" NOT HELPFUL. I'm just going to put my big girl pants (with my Spanx underneath them, thank you very much) on and face it:
I am getting old.
And before you go telling me your age, and how if I think thirty is old then I think YOU must be REALLY old because you're (enter any age here older than thirty here) and I shouldn't be complaining, remember, if you will, the imminence of YOUR OWN 30th birthday. Did you have that perspective? Then do me a favor and let me have my moment, hm?
See, I've got the grumpy old lady thing DOWN! Now somebody give me a hand putting on my pantyhose and shawl so I can go to the grocery store and stand in the middle of the aisle and NOT MOVE for the woman with two screaming children behind me. If I can't hear them, they don't exist! :)