For many women their 29th birthday is their last. From then on, they swear they only have anniversaries of their 29th birthday. I have no qualms about getting older. Heck, I've been looking forward to 55 since I had my first taste of Sun City living when we stayed with Frank's grandparents (after moving from Chicago). We were 23 at the time, we started the countdown... 32 years until we can live in a 55 and older community. Only 26 more to go now.
The weirdest thing about turning 29 is thinking about the things I set out to accomplish by the time 30 rolled around. What is it about 30, anyway? Why is that the deadline or turning point? I suppose when you're younger it seems like the age you should be stable and have your shit together. I'm proud to say, I'm happy where I am at. I met goals, I took risks, sure there were a few bumps in the road, but it got me here; and I learned a lot along the way. There's not much I'd change, if I had the chance to do it again.
I'm throwing out the road map, that plan from my teens doesn't expire at 30. Italy isn't going anywhere. We're shooting for 2011. I doubt I'll take any less from the experience if I see it then, instead of before my 30th birthday. I previously thought if we wanted kids, I wanted to birth them before 30. Well, that ain't happening. I'm no more ready for a family today than I was ten years ago. I'm ready to just enjoy today and we'll see what tomorrow brings. As long as there is tomorrow, there is no deadline.