just a number.

so, it hit me at 26. i wasn't even expecting it... didn't even see it coming. one day it just dawned on me that i was on the other side... the other side of 25. i feel silly even saying that... ( i can hear my elders rolling their eyes. ) but this is a blog about writing from the heart, so there it is. i don't really know where it came from. i just found myself in this little mini age-based crisis. not that i was all of a sudden compelled to indulge in reckless abandonment of my responsibilities, or to succumb to some overwhelming desire to lose all my inhibitions. good grief, no. it just happened that one day, all of a sudden, i just felt, well... old. (go ahead, scoff at me. i can hear my older self scoffing as i write this) and the reason for my writing on this topic is not some immature tantrum about turning 26 (at least i hope not). i'm writing about this because i'm a bit baffled by my reaction to such an insignificant birthday.

i just don't get it.

for as long as i can remember... well, at least ever since i watched the movie "13 Going on 30"... i've looked forward to turning 30. i've been excited for other people who've turned 30. for goodness' sake, i even had my 30th birthday party theme picked out! "Thirty, Flirty and Thriving"! (Ode to 13 Going on 30) i always felt like my thirties would outshine my twenties...  i mean, i was pregnant for about 30 percent of my twenties, to date. you can't be as fabulous as you think you can be when you're pregnant (trust me, i tried). but i always figured, i had my kids early in my twenties, by the time i'm in my thirties, the lucky oldest one will be old enough to watch the younger ones, so the hubby and i can "reinvent our youth" but with more experience, more money and a lot more self-control. but here i am... at twenty six... feeling... non-happy about it. (non-happy: neither happy nor unhappy) it's just so strange.

i mean, in reality, 26 isn't old. i think the reason this is kind of staring me in the face right now is because for sooo long, i've ignored my age. ever since i had my first kid, i realized life wasn't about just me anymore. from that point on, my birthdays really didn't matter. life just cruised at the speed of life and what mattered was who was in my life and not at what point i was on the timeline. but it's really when you have kids that you realize how quickly time passes. it doesn't happen so much when we look at ourselves -- because we always have some skewed self-image. but when you see your kids walking when a year ago they were tiny and fresh from the hospital... or reading and writing almost perfectly, when it seems like just yesterday their broken grammer was the cutest thing you'd ever heard... make oh appy me too mommy  (make so happy me too mommy)... it hits you. and i think this year, it finally hit me. i'm officially on the other side of my twenties and it's kind of scary... because soon my oldest will be old enough to watch the younger ones on his own. it will be one of those "new chapters" that i hear those with more "life experience" talk about. oh, so much to look forward to... but i don't think i'm ready to let go of dr. seuss and move on to goosebumps and sweet valley high. i don't know if i'll ever be... and the scariest part is knowing that it will happen, whether i'm ready...or not.