I have a birthday coming up.
Guys, I have a love/hate relationship with my birthday. I love my birthday because it’s the best holiday of the year. I hate my birthday because it’s pretty much the only holiday of the year for me. That happens when you’re born three hours after Jesus.
This year I’m turning 29. And, instead of feeling excited, I’m feeling very conscious of my age. Maybe it’s because this will probably be the last birthday I celebrate… because 30 is old. But something is different.
So, I’m going to write about it. When I can. We all have seen what two babies has done to my blog productivity.
Welcome to my new series, This Is 29.
Most days of the week you can find me in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, no makeup, and my dirty hair pulled back into a bun with a headband. And by most days, I mean 98 percent of the time. I’m not just talking about when I’m at home feeding babies and doing chores. I’m talking about when I pick my kid up from school, or go to the dance studio and interact with other adult humans. I like to reassure myself that I dress in nothing but old workout gear so that I don’t have to change clothes (i.e. create more laundry) before I start coaching in the evening – but who am I kidding. I can’t even shower on a regular schedule. I wear a headband because I’m growing out my bangs, that I actually really liked, because I can’t consistently manage them.
I can’t even manage my hair.
I see myself in the mirror, and I look like a mom. A worn down, clinging on to her sanity, mom.
Entering my closet the last several weeks has been a challenge. Nothing I own seems right. Not a thing fits the way it used to, thanks to the two babies I’ve birthed in the last three years. Most pieces aren’t my style anymore, or don’t fit my life (even after my massive Marie Kondo moment). Getting dressed has become a chore. My kids look better than I do.
One of my besties told me that she completely purged her closet last week, because she still had clothes from high school. At that moment, I looked down to find myself wearing a Southmont High School cross country sweatshirt.
County Champs 2003.
At what point did I “let myself go” in the wardrobe department? I’ve been a Stitch Fix customer for three years, yet I only have a handful of those decent items to wear. I was actually in tears trying to get dressed for my daughter’s dance recital last week, because I had nothing to put on. I wore a suit jacket from when I first started interviewing for jobs… after college… in 2009. It didn’t fit.
Oh, and two weeks ago when I got to have a kid-free date night with my husband to the local basketball game and dinner? I wore a cardigan sweater with a long-sleeved maternity shirt underneath. Not because it fit, but for some reason I have it in my head that I can’t buy myself a new $10 black non-maternity t-shirt at Target.
I’m not putting myself first. Or second. I might not even be in the top five.
I’m 29 years old. I have two kids. I have been married for the better part of a decade.
AND I LOOK LIKE IT.
I’m choosing to spend my last year of my 20’s doing just a little bit more for myself. Case in point? I decided to buy myself a new winter coat yesterday as an early birthday gift. My current coat was free, and has seed corn logos embroidered on the front.
I think it was a good start.
So, this is 29. The year I ditch the clothes I hate, bring back the bangs, and find a way to like what I see in the mirror.