I’ve just turned 30. Yes I know, it’s hard to believe, given that I have the sprightly demeanour of an 18 year old, but nevertheless, here we are. I always promised myself I’d have a child by the time I hit the big Three-O, but previously it was over drunken conversations with a close friend; ‘if I’m not settled down by the time I’m 30, you’re knocking me up, ok?’. Thankfully for Thom (or unluckily, don’t think he’s decided yet!) he came along and changed my life forever.
I didn’t think I would feel any different turning 30, but I really do. I’m pretty sure my body has become less cooperative with my brain. I want to run marathons, jump off cliffs, go surfing, just like those girls on tampon adverts, but my body just isn’t up for it. I take one look at the ‘Tank’ (aka, the Charisma) and wonder how I ever mustered the strength to push it up hills just after having a baby. But it has its uses, for come winter (which will be in about a week knowing our luck with weather) me and Shy will be easing through the snow thanks to its massive tyres.
I also seem to find pleasure in smaller things nowadays. Don’t get me wrong, Shyloh is the source of my happiness, but you know you’re getting old when you’re excited about the new steam mop you’ve just purchased… not good. Once upon a time it was dancing, movies and alcohol – these days it’s more about sleeping, mortgages and a nice cup of tea. Putting it into words is depressing!
I knew my life would change with the arrival of a child, but I guess I wasn’t prepared for exactly how much. I envisaged myself, a less attractive Anglea Jolie, swanning around the place, juggling life as an awesome Earth Mother, a full time worky person and amazing girlfriend. In reality, I look dishevelled most days, I hate work, and I’m pretty sure Thom wants to kill me.
Saying all that though, it’s amazing how Shyloh has the ability to make me feel ancient one moment (my own little vampire, slowly draining the life from me!), then the next, she does something so unbelievably cute that I feel as carefree as teenager on the last day of school. I love her so much, I never knew quite how much happiness one tiny pooping, screaming, puking thing could bring.
So to summarise… I guess I feel old, but young, all at once. I intend to enjoy every waking moment with my Mini Me, not take life to seriously, and take each day as it comes. Try new things, show Shyloh the world (ok, Aylesbury!), and always try to say yes to new things. I’m pretty sure that should stop my aging in its tracks. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it Dorian Gray!